Drifter
by EpicallyObsessed
Summary: James Diamond loves his small town, his friends, and his restaurant. But when the competing restaurant across the street gets a new pastry chef, James decides that there is something that he really does not love: Kendall Knight, bad boy/pastry genius. But will he change his tune when the two meet?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello everyone! So, I'm here with another story! This one, oddly enough, was kind of inspired by a dream I had. There's also a bit of a different writing style with this one, but I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

At the beginning of every day, James Diamond makes breakfast.

Sometimes he'll have something simple, like toast with bacon and eggs. Sometimes he likes to make omelets or waffles or, occasionally, when he wakes up really early, he makes a souffle or quiche. But no matter if it's savory or sweet, decadent or simple, James starts every day with a homemade breakfast.

It was habit that had started when he was a kid. His mom used to make the most amazing breakfasts for them, always big and filling and requiring a minimum of thirty minutes at the table. James learned to love breakfast because he loved his mom. He thinks he learned to love to cook because of her, too.

James is pretty sure he has never skipped breakfast. Even when he was a teenager, running around like a chicken without its head, he managed to sit down with his mom to have the 'most important meal of the day' with her.

After he moved from home, most mornings he'd stop by his mom's small restaurant to have breakfast there. Nearly every day consisted of his mom, breakfast, and the restaurant. Until the day she died, James hadn't gone more than a day without seeing his mom in some kitchen, making something delicious.

Running Brooke's without Brooke turned out to be harder than James anticipated. He had expected life to be hard without his mom. He thought it would be hard to be a son without a mother. He hadn't thought about how hard it would be to be a chef without her, too.

Inheriting the restaurant was always the plan, he just wishes it hadn't gone like that. He hadn't thought about how hard it would be to cook, let alone maintain customers without his mom.

He stops that train of thought, immediately cutting it off like a door slamming shut between him and his thoughts.

 _Hard_ , James reminds himself, _is not impossible._

He folds over pancake batter in a large mixing bowl. He might not spend his mornings eating breakfast with his mom anymore, but he spends them making breakfast in her restaurant and that's just going to have to be enough.

The little bell above the front door rings from the other room, indicating first arrivals. James hoists the bowl under his arm and pushes at the kitchen door, peeking his head into the main room to see who has arrived.

His cook and waitress come in together, arms wrapped around each other as they laugh at a joke he wasn't privy to. The two hadn't been hired as a couple, but James turned out to be a pretty good accidental matchmaker.

The couple has been together since pretty much the first day James hired Stephanie. Dak had been his mom's cook, so he couldn't take full credit.

They stopped laughing as Dak pressed a kiss to the top of her head. James decides to take a _little_ credit.

"Morning, Boss Man." Stephanie says, waving the hand she had clasped around Dak's. Both of their arms raise in greeting to James.

Dak drops his hand from Stephanie's and goes to the counter, boosting himself up onto it. Brooke's hasn't been redecorated in at least a decade and some of the wear, especially the cracked vinyl on the stools and the fraying edges to the artwork, show. But it's homey, it's comforting, and it's… well, it's _Brooke's_ and James figures that's worth more than enough.

"Morning, guys." James says before jerking his head towards the kitchen. "I'm just going to go-"

"Yeah, yeah. I know the drill." Stephanie waves him off before turning to her boyfriend. "So, do you want to help me with the chairs before you run off to start being the amazing sous-chef you are?"

Dak rolls his eyes, but a smile twitches the corner of his mouth. "I'm not sure that's my official title."

He watches her with a fondness that James has never been the recipient of. Something bright like happiness but heated like jealousy pangs in his chest.

James shrugs, heading towards the kitchen. "Call it whatever you want so long as you hurry."

He takes the batter back into the kitchen, setting the bowl down on the counter. He'll make another batch of batter, and Dak can start prepping the vegetables and heating the griddles and ovens.

They need to start on a quiche or two. It's Saturday, and though business had been down ever since the property across the street had been turned into a restaurant specializing in brunch, James is still hoping to have a good morning rush.

The new restaurant, a stylistically upscale place run by none other than Arthur Griffin, is kind of the bane of James' existence. They'd opened two months ago and already, business as Brooke's plummeted. According to pretty much everyone that James complained to, Griffin could run him out of business permanently.

And according to his accountant, he's going to. After all, who wants to go to a homely, aged little place when they could go somewhere that promises bottomless mimosas? His mom's legacy and their delicious, family-oriented home cooking are going to be run out of business because a bunch of bored townspeople wanted spiked orange juice.

Just the thought of it makes James' head throb.

He pushes the thoughts out of his mind, deciding that he isn't going to worry about that right now. Right now, all he's going to worry about is the right ratio of vanilla to wet batter. That's all that matters right now.

Dak comes in after a few minutes and starts his prep work without saying anything. The man is a year or two older than James who, at twenty-four, is barely old enough to be head chef, let alone owner of a struggling-yet-technically-afloat restaurant.

Where James feels like he's struggling with every decision, Dak works effortlessly. Dak has been working at Brooke's since he was eighteen, first bussing tables and eventually moving into the kitchen. James' mom saw something in Dak, and while James isn't completely sure what it is, he thinks he can see it too.

It doesn't hurt that Dak is one of his best friends, as well. They'd spent way too many of their formative years in the small restaurant together to have not bonded, close like family.

"You're quiet." Dak notes, not looking up from where he's chopping tomatoes.

"I'm thinking." James says. "Nothing worth mentioning."

"Probably true." Dak jokes, then, seriously, "Is it about Kyle?"

 _Oh, shit._

James had kind of forgotten about Kyle.

As of a week ago, Kyle became James' ex-boyfriend. James forgot he's supposed to be upset about that. "No." He answers honestly.

Dak looks up, one eyebrow quirked and his head slightly tilted. His expression shifts from _I'm here for you_ to something more _I'm calling bullshit_ , but he wisely says nothing.

Still, James feels the need to defend himself. "I'm not thinking about him."

"Look," Dak stops chopping completely, and James works very hard not to wince at the impending emotional talk. "It's okay if you're upset. You guys were together for almost a year."

"It was a mutual break-up." James says. Technically, it wasn't, but Kyle had been about ten times more upset than James, so he feels like it's okay to elevate his part in the breakup.

Dak's scoff is predictable, but effective. James struggles not to cross his arms in a pout.

"He was an asshole." Dak offers.

He wasn't, and Dak knew that.

James rolls his eyes. "He was not. But I don't care."

"You don't need to Strong Man this shit." Dak grabs a tomato between his hands, rolling it. "Seriously, when Stephanie and I almost broke up that one time, I was a wreck."

"You love Stephanie." James points out. "Kyle and I were just… having fun."

He winces as soon as the words leave his mouth. That is definitely a jerk thing to say. He keeps talking, hoping he'll stumble onto something that makes him sound less like a jerk. "I'm just not into anything serious."

Dak tosses the tomato up and catches it. "You never are."

"True." James admits.

Done with delving into his feelings, James turns back to the batter he's making. He grabs a container of plastic wrap, covering the now finished bowls. It sticks a little to his fingers, and he focuses on getting out of that and wrapping it securely.

When James finishes, he looks up to see his friend still staring at him. He lifts his chin and eyebrows but doesn't say anything. Dak sighs in response and goes back to chopping the tomatoes, his face drawing in tightly.

The thing is, James isn't reluctant to admit his feelings. He just… doesn't have any. Or, at least, any for Kyle. That's kind of the reason they broke up.

Or, they broke up because Kyle wanted to move in together, and James really couldn't have been bothered with that.

He _does_ feel bad that he didn't actually care. They had been together for nine months, and Kyle had been a great guy. He was nice and attractive, and really liked James, but James didn't want anything serious.

James isn't really sure what that says about him. But he doesn't like it, whatever it is.

Maybe he just isn't the relationship type of guy. Maybe he just doesn't like being in love the way other people seem to.

Maybe he's just an asshole who treated a really great guy so ambivalently that he doesn't even care that they're not dating anymore.

"Should we make a vegetarian and a meat quiche like we talked about yesterday?" Dak asks when he's finished with the tomatoes before grabbing a box of mushrooms, prepping them while he waits for James' response.

James hums his approval and Dak starts chopping. James grabs a knife and starts to cut the meat for the second egg dish. They work in silence except for the occasional scrape of a chair from Stephanie getting the front ready to open.

James glances at the clock; they open in twenty minutes.

"You got this?" James asks when he's done prepping the meat. Dak nods without looking away from what he's doing, and James salutes him, going to wash up and start of the rolls.

The dough had been made yesterday evening right before James left to go home, giving it plenty of time to rise and set. He pops them into the already pre-heated oven.

He grabs the salt, milk, butter, and flour, carrying it over to the side of the stove. Then he finds the biggest skillet he has and starts to slowly make a roux.

James loves making a roux. He likes the simplicity of it, the way that it completely transforms. It takes patience and time, but it's worth it.

He grabs a wooden spoon, carefully stirring. The gravy takes the longest to make because he likes to do it slowly from the recipe his grandmother created and his mom perfected.

Time moves by quickly, as it always does in the kitchen. Before long, he hears the other employees arrive-a dishwasher, a busboy, another waiter-and the customers follow not long after.

James knows better than to get distracted by the sounds and chatter of people. Instead, he turns the roux into gravy, into a meal, when an order calls for it.

Although the orders come, they trickle in slowly. Stephanie brings each back individually and chats with Dak a bit as he fries the eggs or slices potatoes for hash browns. At another establishment-even at Brooke's a year ago-that would have been unprofessional. But James doesn't consider it in bad taste because he knows there aren't any customers waiting for her.

There aren't really that many customers at all.

When the morning rush comes to an end, James leave Dak in charge of the kitchen and goes out to the front.

His regulars sit in their regular spot: Mr. and Mrs. Henderson, an elderly couple that have been coming to Brooke's for twenty years. They come in every weekend morning and sit in the corner booth.

Stephanie's sister and her three kids sit at the big table in the middle, the kids fighting over chocolate milk.

Peter, a middle aged reporter for the local paper, eats his toast and quiche with a cup of black coffee-he comes in every other day and is the reason James added meat quiche to the menu.

There are a few others James vaguely recognizes. He stands behind the counter, refilling coffee and trying to mentally pull in more customers.

James loves to cook. He loves his restaurant, his staff, and his town. He loves everything about the life he has, even if it is hard work and long hours and his mom is gone.

So even if there is a budding restaurant threatening to ruin his business and he is a little bit emotionally unavailable to the point that he forgot about his ex, it doesn't matter. James loves his life and he is going to fight for it.

* * *

In the past five years, Kendall Knight has lived in eight different cities and two small towns.

He bounces from state to state, his old junker car spitting in protest and gurgling the cheapest gas Kendall can find. He's lived in New York, New Jersey, North Carolina, and Illinois. He briefly stayed in Missouri and Wisconsin, and he's pretty sure if he saves up enough cash for an oil change, he can make it to California.

He isn't working to make it out to California necessarily, he just wouldn't mind if he ends up there, but it wouldn't bother him if he doesn't, either.

He doesn't care where he lives, and he doesn't really care if he stays or leaves or any of that. New places weren't always exciting and the more new lives he starts, the more he realizes life is pretty much just life no matter where he is.

He still has to eat and sleep and work, and he still has to deal with the things he doesn't want to deal with. He tried to explain why he kept moving once, but it hadn't come out right. It was hard to explain that he just… well, he just doesn't care. He'll work a job until it bores him and then he'll just pack up the junker and drive until he's sick of driving.

It isn't necessarily the most steady way of life, but Kendall doesn't care about that. He thinks steady might end up being boring.

Speaking of boring-Poplar, Kansas blurs in the windshield, a small town so seemingly boring that Kendall briefly wonders if he's fallen asleep and dreamt the most generic American town he was capable of.

His car rolls to a stop in front of what he thinks must be a courthouse. It's big compared to the rest of the shit in this town, but it still pales in comparison to the sizes of the buildings in Chicago, the last place he was in. The bricks are faded red and there's a gazebo with a broken pillar at the front.

According to the motel manager he called when his car started to sputter on the interstate, the motel isn't far from the courthouse. It was actually walking distance, the woman had cheerfully informed him.

Kendall shuts off the junker before stepping out, pulling out his pack of Marlboro Reds from the cupholder. He takes one of the cigarettes out of the nearly empty pack and puts it in his mouth, slamming the car door behind him.

Rolling the cigarette a bit with his tongue, Kendall squints and looks around. The block has an array of businesses, each one looking just shy of being dilapidated. There's a junk shop, a vintage clothes resale, and a dollar store. He pulls out the lighter from his pocket and lights the cigarette, inhaling the smoke.

"What the hell is this place?" He mutters to himself around the smoke. He locks the car, checks the door handle twice, and starts off towards the other side of the street where the businesses seem to be centrally located.

Living in as many different places as Kendall had, he's fairly accustomed to the general layout towns tend to stick to. Find the courthouse, or any government building, and then the rest of the town will spread out from there. The hub of every small town is easily decipherable.

Predictable. Boring.

Kendall inhales deeply from his cigarette and holds his breath in before letting the smoke billow out from between his lips. His body relaxes beneath the nicotine coating his lungs and mind.

He tries not to scowl when the random townspeople wave at him through shop windows or from across the street. He sees a group of girls huddled by what he thinks is a bank, staring openly at him and whispering to themselves.

Small towns are cheap, which is good when his wallet and gas tank are empty, as they are now. But they can also have the most annoying girls.

He passes by them, purposely avoiding looking in their direction, and goes around the corner to the bank. And there, just at the edge of the block, sits the Sunnyside Motel.

The sign is barely ten feet off the ground. It's shaped like a smiling cartoon sun. It's atrocious. Kendall finished the rest of his cigarette there, glaring at the sign, until the cherry threatens to burn his lips and he has to stub it out on the bank's wall.

Resigned, Kendall crosses the parking lot.

He pushes the door open and pretends to not be bothered by the chime the door lets out at his arrival.

The decor inside makes Kendall stumble a little upon entry. He looks around, face decidedly not pinching up in disgust.

It isn't that Kendall thinks things shouldn't be themed. He makes a point to stay at budget motels because they're cheap and sufficient. But this town, with its cheery people and literally sunny dispositions, seems intrinsically too _sweet_.

And Kendall isn't really a fan of sweet.

"Hi." Kendall says, nodding to the woman sitting at the counter. Her hair is so blonde and curly, it resembles more of a beehive than a hairdo. _Jesus Christ._ "I called earlier."

"Oh, right! Kendall!" The woman put her magazine down, perking up in her seat. "I'm Martha."

"Martha,"-of-fucking-course her name is Martha-"I need a room."

"Absolutely you do!" Martha says. Her cheerfulness seems so extreme, Kendall thinks it _has_ to be forced. He looks around, a little convinced there's going to be a man with a gun a few feet away telling her to smile.

She starts clacking away at the keyboard, looking at the computer, and nearly vibrating in her seat. If he wasn't positive this town has already outlawed alcohol and dancing, he would have thought she was on the good drugs.

He swallows back a sigh. _No need to be rude_ , he thinks, though the urge sits just beneath his skin.

"We have quite a few options." Martha stars.

"Whatever is the cheapest." Kendall interrupts.

Martha's face falls slightly, her painted on rosy cheeks drooping, but she nods after a second. "Well, all right." She frowns at the computer for a second before smiling and snapping her fingers. "That'll be room 318! It's a nice one."

"I'm sure." Kendall doesn't roll his eyes. He absolutely doesn't.

"How long will you be staying with us at Sunny Side Motel?"

Kendall pulls out his wallet, flicking through the cash there. About eighty bucks, plus whatever was in his account… probably not much more than that. That won't be enough to get him going. He'll have to find a job and stick around here for at least a couple paychecks.

Dammit.

Kendall pulls out his license and fifty bucks. "Whatever that'll do." He says.

Martha raises her eyebrows, the thin slivers disappearing beneath the beehive momentarily, before she picks up the license and the cash. She glances at the picture and smiles up at him before turning back to the computer. "All right, I can do one week with our special going on right now!"

"Perfect." Kendall says.

He leans against the counter, fiddling with the lighter in his pocket while Martha copies down his information into the computer system.

When she finally finishes, he takes his license back and the key card she hands him. He bites the inside of his cheek and nods while she spends a good five minutes telling him about their hours, facilities, and information about the town he honestly doesn't give a shit about.

The thing is, everyone thinks their town is special.

Everyone thinks their diner is the best diner in the whole country and their real nice residents and the nicest residents. Kendall doesn't care if this town is special to the people in it. He knows by now, no town is objectively special. No town is going to be special to him.

"You have a great day now!" Martha says when he finally finds a lull in the conversation to inch towards the door.

Kendall nods again but doesn't dare respond vocally, instead opening the door and wincing at the loud chime, slipping back outside as quickly as he can manage.

He goes back to his car and drives to the motel parking lot, sliding into the spot Martha told him went with his room. Considering there's only two other cars in the lot and one of them has to be Martha's, he isn't really sure it matters where he parks, but whatever.

The gas gauge needle moves into the red zone. He shuts the car off and decides to ignore it until he finds a job at least.

He grabs his duffle bag from the backseat and locks the junker, finding his room up a few flights of outdoor stairs. The key card works and there are no easily discernible stains on the bedspread, so Kendall dubs the place good enough.

He throws his clothes in the dresser drawers and stuffs his duffle under the bed. He checks his cash again and returns his wallet to his back pocket, locking the door behind him as he leaves the motel room.

He walks past the motel and bank, looking in the windows of the local business for a Help Wanted sign. The sooner he gets a job, the sooner he gets enough money to leave the town.

Each road seems as unbelievably boring as the last. There's no place that seems quirky or out of the ordinary or hiring.

His stomach growls loudly, interrupting his stride just a little. He's been wandering around the town for nearly an hour, looking for any place hiring that didn't look too goddamn miserable to step foot into.

Unfortunately, while small towns are great because they're cheap, they're also harder to get jobs in.

He makes it to the other side of town, which really isn't that far away, and has only seen about three businesses that even looked big enough to have employees. He looks around, feeling irritation flare beneath his skin. He decides to take a break for lunch and then figure it out afterwards.

Luckily, this side of the town seems to actually have places to eat instead of just charity shops and half-empty furniture stores. Until he stumbles across the one cafe and few restaurants actually open, he hadn't known how the economy of this town stays afloat.

He stops in the middle of the street crossing his arms. One of the places looks like it had been opened in the 80s and not renovated since. The paint is faded and the sign is eerily large compared to the rest of the building. Though Brooke's seems to have people in it, it doesn't necessarily seem like a great place.

Across the street, there's an equally dismal option. While the building looks better, or at least newer, the name of the place alone is reason enough for Kendall to scrunch up his nose and wonder if the motel has any vending machines.

After another minute of looking between the two restaurants and groaning audibly, he shakes his head.

It isn't like it actually matters where he eats lunch anyway. Whether he eats crappy diner food or crappy brunch food, his life won't change. How different can two restaurants across the street from each other in a small town really be anyway?

He looks between the two of them again. Though he's too far away to know for sure, it kind of looks like there's a sign in the window of the nicer looking place. If it's a Help Wanted sign, then Kendall could kill two birds with one stone: a nice lunch and a job.

Deciding he was being unnecessarily dramatic, he makes up his mind. He'll go have lunch at the weird Savory Art's, maybe get a job there, get some money, and get the hell out of this small, one-horse town.

XxX

Kendall glares at the man in front of him.

"Look, man, interview me or don't. But don't just stand there." Kendall says as he folds his arms across his chest. He had been trying to stand in a way that said, _Hey, I'm a nice guy. Give me a job_ , but the prick just stood there glaring at him.

The owner of Savory Art's, whose name Kendall doesn't actually know because the man never introduced himself-although he's pretty sure he heard someone call him Griffin-, clucks his tongue.

Kendall regrets ever entering the dumb brunch diner in the first place. Even if the coffee was pretty good and the food was definitely edible, the owner is probably one of the worst bosses Kendall would ever work for.

"You're saying," The owner says slowly, eyebrows raising. "That you're a traveling baker."

"Among other things."

"Why would a pastry chef not have a restaurant?"

"I didn't want to stay anywhere." Kendall says. He ignores the use of the title _pastry chef_ because it seems a little presumptuous and also dumb as hell. He puts the majority of his energy on not clenching his teeth too hard to let his words out. "I'm good, though. Trust me."

"I'm hiring for barkeep." The owner taps his thumb against his lips.

Kendall shrugs. "Fine. Hire me for that, then. But I'm better at desserts."

"But we could use a pastry chef." The man looks at him with as much interest as there is disdain. "What can't you make?"

Kendall hates being interviewed. He'd rather just bake something or let his resume speak for itself. Still, he really doesn't want to work in a random shop if he can actually get a job in his field.

"I'm not great at a souffle. I can do it," He adds. "But I tend to work overnight and those need to be made pretty instantly."

Griffin looks Kendall up and down and then shrugs. "Logan!" He stomps through the restaurant and after a second, Kendall trails behind him.

He slips through the door when Griffin pushes it open, going into the kitchen without saying anything else to Kendall.

"Logan." He says again, and the chef looks up, blinking.

Kendall has no idea why the idiot would have called to his chef from across the goddamn building. He thinks he might end up hating this guy _a lot_.

"This is Wendell." Griffin gestures toward him.

"Kendall." Kendall corrects.

Logan raises an eyebrow but keeps chopping. "Okay."

"He wants to be our pastry chef."

That stops Logan's hand. He sets down the knife and looks up. "How long have you been doing this?"

An actual, honest to God interview question. Kendall's almost impressed someone seems to have any brains. "Over five years."

"Professionally?"

"Yes. I can give you phone numbers. You know, if you want references."

"Don't bother." Logan says. "References don't matter half as much as what Griffin thinks."

Griffin preens like it's a compliment, but from the way Logan smirks, Kendall thinks it must be an insult.

Logan winks at Kendall before holding out a hand. "Welcome to the team. Get here by nine tomorrow, and I'll have the paperwork for you."

Kendall shakes his hand as Griffin leaves without saying another word. The second the door closes behind him, the kitchen picks back up. The cooks and waitstaff start buzzing around, prepping plates and trays.

"Don't mind him." One of the waitresses says. "He stays out of the way, most of the time."

Logan hands his knife to someone else and steps away from the prep table, gesturing for Kendall to follow him towards the back. "I'm Logan. You have a trial shift tomorrow. We'll see if you're actually any good."

"I am."

Logan raises an eyebrow. "Sure. Well, Griffin will give you a list of things to make every day and that'll be that. He doesn't like the bakers to stay overnight,"-they both roll their eyes-"but we'll mostly be out of the way. You can take the back prep table."

Kendall looks around the kitchen, considering. "I'll bake in the mornings and do prep work in the afternoon, then. Make things easier."

"Perfect." Logan looks back to the stove and winces. "Okay, see you tomorrow. Gotta run."

Kendall watches them cook for a while and then lets himself into the pantry, looking at what ingredients he'll have to work with.

Griffin gave him basically no information and he's not sure who has been making the desserts before he got here, but he assumes it was just a random chef since Griffin was willing to hire him as the pastry chef.

After familiarizing himself with the available ingredients, he slips out of the kitchen and finds a back door. He leaves that way so he won't have to run into Griffin again.

He gets outside and lets out a sigh.

He's got a place to stay, an all right job with a probably shitty boss, and little bit of cash left. Kendall decides that maybe Poplar, Kansas won't be the worst place he's ever stayed.

* * *

 **Done! Of course, this was kind of an introductory chapter, but I hope you all still liked it!**

 **I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter, as well as if you happened to have a favorite part/moment! I also hope you don't mind the writing style of this one.**

 **If you all want more, the next chapter of this is ready to go and will more than likely be up sometime this weekend, so until then! :)**

 **-Epically Obsessed**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello again everone! I'm back with a new chapter!**

 **Before we get started, I would like to thank everyone that read the first chapter! I would also like to give a huge thank you to winterschild11, Guest, Side1ways, and RainbowDiamonds for reviewing!**

 **I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

The next few weeks pass in a blur. Like most days at Brooke's, James rushes from the kitchen to the dining tables, greeting his customers that are as loyal to him as they were to his mom.

He lets Stephanie deal with the new ones because the sheen of sweat and desperation he carries with every new sale is not as appealing as he likes to think it is. He knows their food is good and their customer service is unparalleled. He just wishes everyone on the street knew it too.

He whips batters, fries burgers, and carefully decorates a cake that was ordered for Bonnie Bennett's eighty-fifth birthday, a regular since the day that Brooke's opened.

He dodges questions about his break up and dutifully refuses to be set up by Bonnie and her daughter. He thinks about his mom and how badly he wishes he could make the restaurant thrive the way it did for her.

His ears burn when he overhears a customer, young and with her hair in the biggest bun he's ever seen, talking about how good the eggs are here but how much nicer the atmosphere at Savory Arts is.

James hates Savory Arts. It's an overpriced, underwhelming restaurant that only does well because it's decorated nicely.

Decor is important, sure, fine, James will give them that. But how can the decor be so great that James' superior eggs don't even matter?

He wants to see this so-called nice atmospheric decor. He needs to figure out what the place is doing to so swiftly put him out of business. He gnaws on that thought all afternoon, in between rushes and lulls in the day. The idea that he's failing so miserably for no other reason than goddamn _decorations_ pulls at the strings in his chest, tightly winding the muscles there.

Then he overhears a second set of patrons go on and on about the new baked goods at Griffin's place. Apparently, he hired someone new a few weeks ago and his desserts were so good, that the place was quickly becoming a genuine hotspot.

James is terrible at desserts. He always manages to screw up the pie.

He has no idea who the new pastry chef could be, and according to the gossiping customers, none of them know, either. Poplar is a small enough town that the women at the table are sure if someone who could make something _that_ good was a townie, they'd know about him by now.

So, great. James' decor sucks and Griffin recruited from out of town, probably just with the intention of running James out of business. Fantastic.

When the last customer has been ushered out and Dak starts cleaning up the kitchen, James excuses himself from him employees. He climbs the creaky old stairs up to his apartment, two at a time, and unlocks the door, shoving with his shoulder to get the swollen wood to move.

He stumbles into his apartment, slamming the door behind him. He detours to the bathroom and washes his face and hands, eager for the smell of cooking oil and sweat to be washed off.

James should go back downstairs and help clean up, wipe down the tables, and sweep the kitchen. He should do the books and maybe kitchen inventory. He has things to do and a business to run. But the day has been long, even if the customers were sparse, and he's exhausted.

Though he thinks most of his exhaustion is from fending off Dak and Stephanie's constant worried looks. His friends mean well, they really do, but he doesn't know how to explain to them that he just doesn't care.

He wants to care. He just doesn't.

He shuts off the water that had been running far too long and looks at himself in the mirror.

He looks haggard, with wrinkles and lines etched into his face, too many for a guy who's only twenty-five. He wants to wipe away the stress of the last six months as easily as he wiped away the dirt on his skin. He wants to remember what it feels like to not be thinking about budgets and mimosas, or lack thereof.

He wants to figure out what the hell Griffin's place is offering that is so much better than Brooke's.

James dries his face and hands off.

He could go in as a customer, but that seems unlikely to work because the town is small, and Griffin would definitely recognize James the second he stepped into the restaurant. And even if he didn't, how bad would it be for business if he was seen going into the rival restaurant? As if his own food wasn't good enough?

No, he definitely can't go in as a customer.

He can't send someone in either, because that would mean admitting to the fear of losing. He doesn't want to admit to his employees or friends that Brooke's is struggling. That seems almost as bad as going in himself.

Throwing himself onto his couch, James groans.

He could just wear all black and sneak around, an incognito mission worthy of James Bond.

He laughs at the idea, running his hands down his face. God, he's going to go bankrupt because-

The phone rings, breaking him out of his thoughts.

He digs around the cushions, looking for his abandoned cell phone. He finds it from where it's fallen before answering.

"Hello?" He says as he leans back, letting his head fall on top of the couch. It puts his neck in a weird position and he ignores the crick growing there.

"James?" His name comes out a little garbled and James thinks for the hundredth time he really needs to get a new phone.

He pulls it away from his face to glance at the caller ID. His best friend's name blinks up at him from the phone.

"Carlos." He says, grinning. "How's it going, man?"

There's a huffing sound from the other side of the line and James frowns, waiting for Carlos to actually say something instead of just laughing at him.

Eventually, he does. "Um, maybe don't ask me that. I'm calling to ask _you_ that."

"Why?" James sits up, wincing when his neck twinges. Carlos' voice is suspiciously sharp, angled as if he knows something James doesn't. He tries to do damage control by answering the question. "Things are going fine with me."

"Why? Why am I asking? Um, maybe because I heard from fucking _Dak_ that you broke up with Kyle."

James freezes. He fucking forgot about Kyle _again_.

"Oh." He squeaks out. "Um...oops?"

"Oops? It's been _weeks_ man!"

James has an image of his friends hair lighting on fire. He can practically imagine Carlos erupting in flames over this.

"I'm sorry, 'Los. It just...slipped my mind."

"Slipped your mind?" He sounds incredulous, but the anger seems to be seeping away. "Dude."

"I know." James throws a hand up, smacking his forehead. "I'm terrible."

"Hey, no, it's-" Carlos cuts himself off. "Why don't you come over tonight?"

Over as in the bar Carlos works at.

James contemplates briefly. "No thanks."

"No?" He can practically hear Carlos' gaping. "I haven't seen you in over a month!"

"I'll stop by sometime soon." He says.

"Yeah." Carlos agrees. "Like tonight."

James groans. "I really just want to sleep."

"What you _need_ is to get out of that damn house. Get up, take a shower, and come to the bar. Now."

The phone clicks, and James tosses the phone on the couch when he realizes Carlos hung up on him.

He considers ignoring Carlos' advice but decides that's probably a rude thing to do, especially after apparently ignoring him for weeks.

James knows he does that sometimes, forgets to check in with people, but he doesn't do it on purpose. He just gets _busy_ , lost in his own head. He wishes his friends understood that more.

But their lack of understanding isn't a lack of caring, so James heaves himself off the couch and dutifully showers, gets dressed, and climbs into his truck for the ten minute drive to the edge of town.

When he pulls into the parking lot, the bar is crowded as if it's a good place to be.

It's a dive bar, for sure, but the town considers it better than that because it's their only option. The neon sign that announces its hours has long ago gone out and the whole thing smells like Budweiser and sweat.

James has been going there since he was eighteen and actually getting in since he was twenty-one. He probably helped decorate the stains on the upholstery more than once.

When James started working full time at Brooke's, officially instead of just the child labor of family businesses, his best friend Carlos got a job bartending. James is pretty sure if Carlos ever left, the entire place would collapse. Carlos is pretty much the only one who keeps the place looking like it actually deserves the passing health inspection rating it has.

James gets almost to the bar before Carlos notices him. His friend's reaction is instantaneous.

"James!" He calls out, fist pumping. "Look, guys, he's alive!"

The drunks at the bar cheer loudly. James ignores them, and ignores the blush heating up his cheeks, as he settles onto an empty stool.

Carlos hands him a beer, popping the top off for him. "I can't believe it."

"Yeah, yeah." James grumbles, taking a pull of the drink. It's cool and refreshing and he feels instantly better about his decision to come.

The bar is packed, but seemingly not busy by the way Carlos immediately settles with his hip against the counter and a beer of his own in hand.

"I can't believe the elusive James Diamond left his house."

James' lips quirk. "I leave my house."

"Yeah, to go to what is essentially your basement."

"Please stop calling my restaurant a basement."

"Can't stop the truth, Jay." Carlos winks.

James chuckles. "I've just been busy."

"How have you been more busy than usual?"

"I… It's…" James drinks more of his beer. "Griffin's place has been open for a few months now, and his business has really picked up."

"So you're more busy because you're less busy?" Carlos asks.

"Yeah." James says, not even attempting to explain the logic. He's pretty sure it makes sense. In theory…

"Well, thanks for carving out some time." Carlos' eyes dart away, and his face morphs as a customer grabs his attention. He sets his beer down next to James and goes to the other side of the bar.

James spins the stool around, leaning with his elbows on the back of the bar, balancing his beer on his knee, as he surveys the room. He really hasn't been here recently, and it's comforting to see how little it's changed. Even the clientele is essentially stock photos of who is always there.

James can see the Harrison brothers playing pool, Lucy Stone who works at the auto shop, Tom Carlisle from the bank. He recognizes his neighbors and it's comforting in a way, his shoulders relaxing.

He starts to turn back to face the bar when his gaze trips over something.

Some _one_. Someone new.

The new guy stands in the corner next to the jukebox, his arms crossed with a beer balanced between two fingers. His legs are stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, a bit of skin peeking out from under the dark jeans, and James' mouth dries.

But as nice as his legs are-and they are nice, they are really, truly, glad-he-left-his-apartment nice-his face takes the cake.

Sharp, angular bones, full lips, and perfectly styled blonde hair. James can't see what color his eyes are from here, but he starts placing bets with himself inside his head and finds that he really, really wants to know.

He keeps staring, wondering what the rest of him looks like, what the details he can't see are, wondering how the _hell_ he missed him when he first came into the bar, until Carlos loudly clears his throat.

James spins around so quickly some of his beer splashes out of the bottle.

His face feels like it's being lit by flames. "What?"

"What?" Carlos asks, crossing his arms. "You're going to sit there, looking like a tomato, and ask _me_ what?"

James tries to draw himself up, but shrinks immediately under Carlos' arched eyebrow. "Um, yeah?"

"Oh my god! Who is that?!" Carlos says loudly, making a show of looking around James' shoulder to gawk at the guy.

James slaps at his shoulder, whining out his name. "Carlos! Stop!"

It goes on until Carlos is laughing too hard to care.

"Please, for the love of God, shut _up_." James can feel the hot guy's presence behind him, as if it's tangibly affecting the space between them. He wants to turn around. His body twitches with the effort to stay still.

"You like him."

"I do not!" James says before drinking more of his beer and focusing hard on not choking.

"Then you don't want to know who he is." Carlos picks up a few of the dirty dishes around the bar and goes to put them in the steam washer, ignoring the way James is glaring at him.

James would strangle Carlos if he wasn't his best friend and the one that apparently has information on Hot Guy.

By the time Carlos comes back to him, James' whole body is a second from passing out. He just wants to _know_.

Carlos grins. "Okay. Now, let me try this again. You like him."

James' teeth clench. "He's...quite attractive, I suppose."

Carlos throw his head back, laughing loud enough that a few people look over. "Um, understatement."

"Just...what do you know?"

Carlos winks and grabs James another beer from below the counter. James quickly finishes his old one and accepts the new one.

Carlos taks a pull of his own beer before sneaking a glance at Hot Guy. "That, dear James, is the enemy."

James' eyebrows furrow. "What?"

"He's Griffin's new pastry chef."

James can't help it. His head snaps around to eye the man again.

This time, Hot Guy is looking. He gives James a once over and a smirk before turning back to his phone.

James turns to Carlos.

"He started a few weeks ago, I guess. He's like a drifter who makes cake, and he's pretty much the only reason people keep going back to Griffin's dumb place." Carlos explains.

"How do you know all of this?" Though, really, Carlos always knew things.

Carlos rolls his eyes. "I'm a bartender. People just tell me things."

"Why would people tell you about him?"

"He's hot." Carlos gestures towards Kendall, turning his upended palm into a small wave when it turns out the guy is looking.

James stops short of burying his head in his hands.

He manages to wait until Carlos is busy with another customer before looking back around.

Somehow, the guy seems hotter now that James knows he's the enemy, which is ridiculous. He's the guy James has been hearing about, the one essentially ruining his business. That's bad news. He's hot and the first guy in a long time that James has felt so instantly attracted to. That's also bad news.

The good news is that all of that is a good enough reason to chug his beer and get the hell out of there.

Carlos interrupts his getaway plan. "I found out his name is Kendall, he's a bit of a jerk, but he's also probably single. Again, drifter."

"Stop asking about him." James grumbles.

"Who says I'm asking for you?" Carlos winks.

James blinks. "Oh…"

"Relax. I'm kidding. He's way more your type."

"I don't have a type."

"Eh." Carlos shrugs. "Agree to disagree."

James changes the subject. "So, how are things with you? I'm out of the loop."

Carlos perks up, launching into a huge story about how his friend wanted to set him up, but the guy was being particularly reluctant and he was insisting it had nothing to do with Carlos, which Carlos thought was a little untrue.

The story continues for the duration of the beer, and when Carlos offers him a third, he declines.

"I should get going. I've got to open tomorrow." He reaches into his wallet to pull out some cash when Carlos waves him off.

"No, don't worry about it. I'll see you again soon, though, right? I work again tomorrow."

James shoves his wallet back in his pocket. "I'll keep that in mind. I'll see you later."

"See you later!"

James winds his way through the crowd and pushes open the door. It won't budge and he shoves harder, using his weight to shove the reluctant door open.

When it does, he stumbles out and slams into someone.

Their arms shoot out and steady him, and James instinctually clutches at them to stop himself from falling down.

He stops swaying when he looks and realizes the person he slammed into is none other than the enemy, Kendall.

And his eyes are definitely green.

He owes himself five bucks.

* * *

The weeks slam past Kendall in a way that can only happen in a small town. Absolutely nothing happens and somehow, that makes time go by faster.

He spends his mornings and afternoons baking, darting out of the way of the chefs, who actually need to be in there during that time, and trying not to strangle either himself or his boss. Griffin, as predicted, is a total asshole and spends eighty percent of their interactions complaining about what Kendall's doing.

Now, Kendall's not above constructive criticism. But being told that "I would have preferred a lemon cheesecake instead of the apple tarts today" is not necessarily constructive, especially when the criticism is coming from the man who told him to make the damn tarts in the first place.

Kendall likes the work, as he always does. He loves baking, and the pay is good enough that if he can keep his mouth shut for a few more weeks, he'll have enough to maybe make it to California.

Outside of work, the town offers next to nothing. There's one movie theatre with only three screens and a single bar that is adequate at best. He spends most of his nights either streaming TV on his computer or drinking at the bar, trying not to befriend the locals but also not look so pissy that he gets into a bar fight.

It's a balancing act and by two weeks in, Kendall thinks he's gotten pretty good at it.

Mostly, everyone leaves him alone or only stops for a polite chat after he's had a few drinks. So when a tall guy stumbles in and starts chatting up the bartender, Kendall's not expecting him to spend half his time just openly staring at him. The bartender's made his... _intentions_ , or willingness at least, very clear to Kendall. But Kendall likes fucks that don't have strings attached and in small towns, there are _always_ strings.

So he said no to the sous-chef at work, and he said no to the bartender, and he said no to the other locals that have come up to him throughout his time settling in Poplar. He intends on saying no to this guy, too, when he inevitably gets up the courage to talk to him.

Instead, though, the guy just blushes every time he looks at him, and slaps his friend across the chest when it's clear the guy is trying to get Kendall's attention.

It's different.

Kendall thinks maybe he likes it better, so halfway through his third drink, he starts staring, too.

He definitely likes it better.

When his third drink is done, Kendall decides that he likes it a bit _too_ much and he should probably leave before he does something stupid.

He makes it outside and lights a smoke to calm his nerves before he walks back to the motel.

But then he's hit by a wall from behind and nearly falls to the ground with the breath knocked out of him.

The wall that slammed into him squeaks, letting out an indignant little sound. Kendall's hands shoot out and wrap around the wall, shaking his head to clear it of the fuzz growing there. When he blinks, he realizes it's not a wall, but a man. And not just a man, but a really, really _hot_ man.

Kendall steadies the man that almost plowed him over and then lets his hands linger just a bit longer than necessary.

It's the same brunet guy from before, the one who was staring.

He's been in this two horse town long enough now, coming up on three weeks, that he knows he hasn't seen this guy anywhere before. Kendall has met a lot of people, in fast food restaurants, at Griffin's, at the gas station, and the bank. He's met a lot of people, and he's regretted almost every interaction.

If he had ever met someone as hot as this guy though, who by now was frozen with his fingers clenched into the material of Kendall's shirt, then he definitely would have remembered.

Kendall smirks at the man, the cigarette burning between his lips lolling from the motion.

"Oh…" The man speaks, cheeks tinged red. His eyes fall to the cigarette and, more importantly, Kendall's lips. It makes them spread wider. "Sorry!"

"You nearly knocked me down." Kendall says as he steps back so he can fit his arm between them and remove the cigarette. He flicks it and ashes fall.

The man watches it and lets his gaze snap back up.

He's got this nicely styled hair and broad shoulders that make Kendall absolutely certain that he works out. Long lashes frame his hazel eyes and his skin is tanned from the sun, but nothing that cries hard outdoor labor.

He's hot as hell, and Kendall has half a mind to do something about it.

"I'm James Diamond." The guy says as he shoves his hand between them, elbow creasing up when he realizes there's not enough space.

Kendall looks at the offered hand for a few seconds before giving in and shaking it. He lets his thumb glide across the skin of James' knuckles.

"Kendall."

"You're not from here."

Kendall takes a drag of his cigarette. "What gave it away?"

"Um...well, it's a small town, we know pretty much everyone and I don't know you, so-"

Kendall's eyebrow hitches up. "I was kidding."

James' face gets redder. "Oh. Right."

Kendall looks him up and down again. James fidgets under the gaze but doesn't walk away.

He clearly left the bar for a reason, and considering how much time has passed since Kendall left and how he hadn't noticed that he was being watched when he left, Kendall doesn't think James followed him out.

So, presumably, there's a different reason why James is out in the cold.

He doesn't move, though.

Kendall lifts his hand, offering the cigarette silently.

James just cocks his head, frowning.

Kendall's eyes roll up towards the sky. He juts his hand out a little farther. "Take a drag, James." He says, the words coming out like a challenge.

James starts to shake his head but then freezes, his eyes hardening a bit. Slowly, so slowly Kendall has to push his lips together to keep from laughing, he raises his arm and pinches the cigarette out of Kendall's limp grasp.

Holding it between his thumb and forefinger like a joint, James gently parts his lips and sets the cigarette there.

Faintly, Kendall remembers he decided to leave the bar specifically because this was a bad idea. Small town hookups are always a bad idea, and he always regrets them.

But then James' lips are curled around the end of the cigarette, the cherry bright at the tip, and suddenly, Kendall doesn't give a shit about what a bad idea this is.

Kendall crosses his arms and leans against the wall. The brick is cool against his back and he works at schooling his expression as James inhales, pulling in the smoke.

For a moment, it's the absolute hottest thing Kendall's ever seen; this clean-cut guy with his cigarette between his lips, inhaling from the same nicotine Kendall was inhaling from a second before.

He's holding it all wrong and his eyes are wide and too open, but Kendall can look past that and see the hollowing of his cheeks and purse of his lips. The filter burns and James pulls the offensive item away, letting the smoke out in a cough.

Kendall accepts the smoke back when James offers it to him. He locks eyes with him and then takes a long drag, as long as he can, before dropping the cigarette and toeing the bud out with his shoe.

James doesn't break eye contact. Kendall lets the smoke out of his mouth, little rings filling the space between them.

"Who are you?" Kendall asks. He pushes himself off the wall and crowds James' space, just a little. He's had a few beers and from the smell of the exhale that James lets out, he has, too.

In general, Kendall doesn't care for his job or the people he's met yet, and he doesn't think Poplar is going to turn into much of anything but a waste of time. But this guy, with his brunet hair and wide, pupil-blown eyes...he might just prove to be interesting.

To test his theory, Kendall takes another half step forward. James inhales sharply but doesn't back away.

Interesting, indeed.

"I own Brooke's."

The name sounds familiar. Kendall racks his brain, trying to remember the little shops in town.

James' stance sharpens, and for some reason, it makes the connection click in his head.

"The diner?" The small one across the street Kendall had almost gone into instead of Griffin's.

"It's a restaurant." James says, as if it's a correction.

Kendall shrugs and nods. "Okay. I've seen it."

"I bet you have." James mutters.

Kendall frowns. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It _means_ you're the competition." James sways into his space and Kendall smirks. James' face and neck are turning red, and Kendall has the distinct desire to press his tongue against the pink skin.

"I am?"

"Yes. The enemy." James adds.

Kendall doesn't really know what they're talking about. He asks another question just to keep James' lips moving. "And how am I your enemy?"

"I...you're...I heard you're the baker at Griffin's. And my restaurant is in competition with his, and you're the reason he's even doing so well and-"

"Are you sure," Kendall takes another step forward. Their chests are close to touching and he can hear the ragged intake of James' breath much, much better. "that you want to be talking about this?"

He wasn't going to do this. He likes the way the guy stares _way_ too much to be doing this. Kendall reminds himself of this again and again, but it gets a little weaker each time.

He flickers his eyes up from James' mouth to eyes. They're darker than before and a sharp shiver runs through his spine. He can feel vibrations in his fingertips and his tongue darts out of his mouth just to swipe across his bottom lip. Kendall is very, very pleased by James' darkened eyes.

"We're rivals."

"Sure." Kendall says and then he closes the space between them.

He wraps one hand around James' neck, the edge of his fingertips toying with the hair there. He lets his other slide down James' arm, curling around his wrist before falling to his waist, clenching there. James jolts, body spasming a little bit closer and then their lips are just a half centimeter from touching.

Kendall moves his head slightly, lips a little parted and eyes focused on James' expression. He looks dazed, his own mouth absently trailing Kendall's.

Kendall's one second away from giving in when James closes the space between them instead.

His hands fly up and close around Kendall's jacket, fisting the material. He kisses him, gentler than Kendall expected, lips moving slowly. Kendall lets him lead the kiss, trying not to press harder than James is.

When James pulls back, Kendall does, too.

Though it wasn't the most intense kiss Kendall ever had, they're both panting, and Kendall can feel white-hot heat inside his stomach, lashing against his muscles and bones. His whole body feels a few good seconds away from erupting.

Hell, on second thought, maybe it _was_ the most intense kiss he's ever had.

James takes a step back. "I...shouldn't have done that."

Kendall struggles to tear his gaze away from James' lips. "Is that so?"

"You're the enemy."

"You keep saying that."

"I should go."

"Okay." Kendall swipes his thumb across his bottom lip, pretending to be as uncaring about the decision as he wants to be.

James opens his mouth to say something else but, in the end, just turns around and crosses the parking lot in a near run. He makes it to an old pickup truck and climbs in.

Kendall watches through the window as James slams his head on the steering wheel. The horn honks out a little noise and he straightens up, gaze snapping to Kendall.

Kendall waves. James slams the truck into drive and peels out so fast, Kendall starts laughing.

He laughs until James is out of sight. Then he starts walking towards the motel, whistling as he goes.

* * *

 **Done! So, Kames have met! We also have the introduction of Carlos this chapter!**

 **I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter, as well as if you happened to have a favorite part/moment!**

 **Again, I hope you all enjoyed! I loved hearing your thoughts on the first chapter! The next chapter will be up within the next few days, so you won't have too long of a wait for that!**

 **Until then!**

 **-Epically Obsessed**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello everyone! A new chapter is here!**

 **Before we get started, I would like to thank everyone that read last chapter! I would also like to give a huge thank you to Side1ways, Guest, RainbowDiamonds, and winterschild11 for reviewing!**

 **I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

The next day inches along, scraping minute by minute against his skull like a pounding headache. James wakes up and goes to work and generally tries to act normal, but his whole body aches as if he's hungover.

James _wishes_ he was hungover.

The memory of Kendall's kiss lingers over his every movement and word, a mocking reminder that he full on made out with the enemy. The guy is the main reason that Brooke's is failing. The guy's a bit of a dick. A bit of a dick that James definitely kissed and Kendall definitely kissed him back.

Guilt flares every few interactions, a speedy flash of heat to remind him that he did something he regrets.

Or, that he did something he wishes he regretted more.

By the time the restaurant is ready to close down, early that night because it's a Sunday and small towns mean small hours, James needs a drink.

His head still feels like it's stuffed with cotton. James ignores it and goes back to the bar.

He's absolutely _not_ hoping that Kendall will be there and he doesn't care that the last time he was there, they kissed. He just cares that his friend Carlos and his friend alcohol will be there.

James pushes through the door, letting it slam behind him. The bang doesn't interrupt the conversation in the room or disrupt the loud Bon Jovi album bleeding through the speakers.

Only Carlos and a few girls in a booth turn towards the sound. The girls look away and Carlos hands him his beer of choice before he's even fully settled on a bar stool.

He downs the whole beer before even noticing that Kendall is in the room.

When he _does_ notice, he considers downing a second one just as quickly. He slinks into the seat and for a good thirty minutes, pretends like Kendall isn't there.

His skin is on fire the entire time.

James hates that guy.

He hates him, and he thinks that maybe if he hated him a little less, he wouldn't be sitting there thinking about how freaking _hot_ he was.

Across the room, Kendall throws his head back and laughs. It's full bodied and even from half a room away, James sees the long line of Kendall's neck, the press of his Adam's apple-his mouth waters and his tongue stings with the urge to swipe over the skin there.

James watches as Kendall runs a hand through his hair, his fingers raking through the strands and leaving them upended and slightly messy.

James hadn't taken advantage of their one dumb, stupid, mistake of a kiss. If he had taken advantage, he would have let his fingers wind into his hair and use a firm grip to pull on the strands, leading Kendall to where he was so he could kiss him harder and better.

It's a goddamn miracle James doesn't storm across the room and grab the stupid, handsome jerk by the neck and kiss him until one of them passes out or punches the other one.

It's a goddamn miracle because James can't stop thinking about the way his lips were shiny and his eyes hooded and-

 _He's the enemy,_ James reminds himself, tearing his eyes away from Kendall. He glares down at his beer, half a thought away from blaming the alcohol for his own stupid desire. _He's the Dark Side._

Sweat drips down the bottle James is holding, rolling over his clenched fingers and across his wet skin. It feels far away.

Everything feels far away, but James thinks that's probably because he's far away.

It's the hate, he's positive. He's so freaking attracted to Kendall because he hates him so much and James has never really hated that many people, let alone one that is reasonably handsome, so his body and mind are a little confused. He's just confused.

That one really good, really bad kiss just confused him. That's all.

"You're staring at him." Carlos says. He throws the towel over his shoulder and props his elbows on the bar top, leaning his chin into his hands. His amusement bleeds over his face, lips twitching again and again as he struggles not to openly mock his friend. "Just so you know."

James raises the beer bottle and points it at him. "Shut up."

He drinks heavily until the beer trickles to a stop and he's emptied the whole bottle.

"Thirsty?" Carlos jokes. His gaze follows James' and when they both land on Kendall, Carlos laughs. It draws Kendall's attention and then _he's_ looking back at James and his eyes are so freaking mesmerizing even from across the room.

James snaps his head away quickly, looking around the room as if that had been his intention all along. "Do your job and get me another beer."

Carlos rolls his eyes but dutifully straightens and gets another bottle, grabbing an opener to pry the lid off. He hands it to James, ignoring the way he chugs it down immediately.

"You're mean when you're horny." Carlos says _way too damn loudly._

James chokes on the beer, sputtering around the small amount he had in his mouth. "I...I am _not_ -"

"Mean?" Carlos bites down on his bottom lip, but his shaking shoulders give him away.

"I am _not_...that! Just...God!" James glares down at the bar top, just stopping short of folding his arms petulantly across his chest. His cheeks burn and he can't even begin to think about how hot his ears are. He's red, red, red and embarrassed and James thinks maybe becoming friends with Carlos in middle school was a really bad idea.

"I hate you." James tells him, moving his glare from the counter to his friends face.

Carlos grins. It's wide and toothy and not at all concerned by the declaration of hate. "Nah." He disagrees. "You only hate one person. And I'm pretty sure you don't actually hate him."

Without meaning to, definitely without _wanting_ to, James' head turns and he's looking at Kendall again.

God, that man is hot as hell.

James groans and throws his arms up in frustration. "I'm gonna die."

"Maybe." Carlos nods his agreement. "But I hope not, though!"

A guy from across the bar waves for Carlos' attention and after a quick salute goodbye, he's off to do his job and leaves James alone with his thoughts.

He peeks again at Kendall. Kendall's shifted in his chair so that it's pointed in James' direction and he's leaning it back on its rear legs. He cocks his head, eyes sharp and focused on James even before he had turned around to sneak a glance at him.

The heat that had slowly been receding rushes back, bringing a bright blush to his cheeks.

 _Holy shit._

If James was a little hot and bothered just by looking at the guy from his peripheral vision or watching him laugh, that's nothing compared to now. That's nothing compared to the way Kendall looks with his gaze hooded and heated, focused just on James. It looks like his eyelids are heavy, like they're weighted down. It looks sinful.

 _Holy freaking shit._

James averts his gaze quickly because, yeah, no, he's not going to just make the weird, heated eye contact with the hottest enemy he's ever had-okay, so, he's the hottest guy he's ever seen, enemy or not, and he's also the _only_ enemy he's ever really had, but still-

He looks again. Just a peak from below his lashes, a quick one that not one will probably notice.

Kendall smirks.

James downs the rest of his beer.

He's tied to the chair, tethered completely to it by the sheer possibility that crackles between them. James _knows_ there are other people in this bar-his freaking best friend, for one-but he can't force himself to care.

James always cares; is always cautious. That's kind of his thing.

But right now…

He hears Carlos' voice not too far away, talking to someone. Their voice sounds familiar, too, and he's not really surprised because the only surprising person that James has ever met is exactly the person that is grounding James to a freaking bar stool right now.

James' veins churn. His chest feels thin as air but potent like the storm brewing behind it; he watches Kendall stand up.

Kendall tosses a wad of cash onto the counter. He hadn't stopped to count it or unfold the bills or break eye contact for half a second. Even when he was speaking to someone else lowly, he was looking directly at James.

It fills him with...something. He doesn't stop to identify it. He only stops to breathe, hard and shivering, when Kendall finally looks away.

By the time James lets out the quivering breath he'd been holding in, Kendall's crossed the room to stand in front of him.

He's a half a foot away from James, standing in front of the stool that James is still faintly perched on. He drags his eyes down, down, down, then lets them climb back up, only to linger on James' throat.

James swallows heavily. Kendall's eyes flash and then he's looking at his eyes again, bright green eyes locked onto James'.

"Hey." James says. It comes out small and strangled.

Kendall smiles wider. "Hey."

 _He's the enemy, he's the enemy, he's the enemy, he's-_

 _Really, really freaking hot._

"Good drink?" James asks as he looks around the room, trying to distract himself from the way Kendall's tongue had just peaked out and swiped across his bottom lip. His gaze trips a little when he sees Carlos across the bar, drying glasses and clearly struggling not to laugh at him. His eyes snap back to Kendall.

Kendall takes a half step towards him and plucks the beer bottle from James' hand. He shakes it, noting that it's empty, and then leans forward to set it on the counter behind James.

He's _so close_ to James when he does that, the line of his jaw just centimeters away from James' mouth, and James inhales sharply.

"About as good as yours, I'd say." Kendall tells him, pulling back out of his space. He crosses his arms, shirt tightening against him and showing off lean muscle. It's enthralling and dries out James' mouth.

Silence blossoms around them, enveloping them in a bubble that cuts off their senses from the rest of the bar. James already hadn't been able to see anything else, now he can't hear anything but Kendall's soft, soft breathing; can't feel anything besides the beating of his own heart; taste anything but the beer and anticipation rolling in waves on his tongue.

Usually, James finds silence to be awkward or, on some occasions, comforting. But this silence is something entirely different. It curls itself underneath his ribs, sliding between his muscles and tendons. It jolts and spasms and reminds him that everything, even silence, can be felt.

His fingers twitch. He smothers the urge to touch by giving in to the urge to look, raking his eyes up and down Kendall.

He wears the same type of dark, tight jeans he had been wearing the day before. These have a small tear in one of the knees and while James knows that's a style, it's clear that this hole has been ripped from wear and tear. Warmth softly unfurls in his chest. And for no reason James can discern, he likes it.

Kendall's hair seems even more blonde under the lights of the bar. His collarbone...well, that's the part that James thinks he might like the most. It's sharp, jutting out in a way that's almost comical. James wants to suck small bruises into the skin there, or maybe above or below it, and definitely on his neck-his neck is arguably James' second favorite part.

Using more strength than he cares to admit is involved, he forces his eyes back to Kendall's. When their eyes meet, James lets out a little shaky breath and he smiles, just a little, even though he really does hate this guy.

That smile, apparently, is all the permission Kendall needs.

He swipes his thumb across his own bottom lip, fingers curled around his chin briefly, then he jerks his head towards the door. "Come with me."

James watches him leave. He doesn't slow his stride when James doesn't follow. He doesn't look behind him when he reaches the door and James is still frozen to the bar and Kendall doesn't wait for him, just throws open the heavy door and then lets is slam shut behind him.

James stares at the door. He blinks once, twice, and then turns to Carlos. His friend gives him an incredulous expression, mutters something that looks a bit like _goddamn_ and _bastard_ , and weaves his hands in a shooing motion towards the exit.

A light bulb clicks above James' head.

James rushes towards the door, head snapping back and forth when he makes it outside and Kendall isn't just by the door waiting for him, which, of course he isn't. Why would Kendall just wait for him? Kendall's entire "wham, bam, thank you, ma'am" attitude requires that he be the kind of guy to not wait. He's an asshole and he's hot as hell and he's-

He's leaning against James' truck.

James decidedly does _not_ stumble on the bricks when he slides across the parking lot.

Kendall's back is pressed to the passenger side door, hands shoved into his jean pockets, and his ankles crossed out in front of him. A cigarette dangles from his lips, the cherry bright red. When James stops in front of him, Kendall's cheeks hollow as he takes a deep drag, and he lifts one hand to remove the cigarette and blow out the smoke.

 _Smoking is so gross_ , James thinks. But even in his own head, it comes out more like a whimper and something tightens in his chest in a really nice, warm way when Kendall puts the cigarette back between his lips. They're puckered around the paper, drawn together to hold it in place.

The paper burns, ash replacing the white.

They stand there, the only sound the soft, undetectable burning of the cigarette and the heavy-hoofed stampede of James' heart.

When the cigarette is nearly gone, just a small bud left, Kendall drops it. James' eyes follow it down. The red burns brightly against the gray asphalt. James toes the bud, pressing his shoe into it until the fire goes out and it's smashed into the ground. He looks back up, feeling as if the fire from the burnt cigarette is spreading throughout his body.

Kendall cocks his head. The smirk from before is back and it infuriates James, heating his veins.

James crosses his arms as if he's cold. He looks around the parking lot. Kendall looks so aloof. James is pretty sure he's never been aloof a day in his life. This, right here, swallowing words down in a dimly lit parking lot with a hot stranger, is the most aloof he's ever been.

It doesn't last long. "Do you need a ride home?" He blurts out.

Kendall's smirk smooths out into a smile, sharper than any one that James has ever worn. "No."

"Oh." James says. "Well, okay."

"Unlock your truck, Diamond."

James' knees turn to jelly.

"Thought you didn't need a ride." James says, even though he feels like he's filled with cement. He also feels like he's floating through the air, attached only to a balloon. There are needles underneath his skin and Kendall's gaze elicits each round of vibrations.

Kendall pushes off from the truck, crowding into James' space. He leans in, just the smallest amount. His lips are centimeters away from grazing James' jaw and he feels the space as tangible, air alight with kerosene.

"I don't. Unlock the door."

James stumbles forward again, brushing past Kendall to stick the key in the lock. He hates how hard his hands are shaking, incapable of getting it right. If his truck could be unlocked with a click of a button, they'd already be inside.

But the truck's too old and James' body is trembling too hard. Kendall takes the keys from James' hand and unlocks the door quickly and easily.

"After you." Kendall says. Between the last time he spoke and now, Kendall's tone fell an octave. It scrapes against his throat a little too roughly and sends shivers down James' spine.

James climbs into the cab, scooting so that his back is pressed against the driver side door. He twists at the hip, barely in a position to be able to drive, but not yet completely splayed across the seat.

Is he going to be driving? Is he going to-

Anticipation sits in him, tightly wound like a string around a finger, cutting off the circulation and turning the tip of his finger pink. His vision blurs and he blinks, refocusing as Kendall closes the door behind him and settles.

"Should I…" James trails off as he gestures towards the wheel.

Kendall shakes his head. "No." He says. "That would be unsafe."

"Me driving?"

"You driving while I do what I plan on doing to you."

Heat replaces the anticipation...bright, bright heat, spasming inside his stomach like a warning sign that he is all too eager to ignore.

His voice dies in this throat. He just nods, head jerking fast.

Kendall scoots closer. He leaves a little space between them, eyes dark and flickering across James' face. He feels it like a physical sensation, the drag of his gaze against his lips, ghosting over his cheekbones. His skin tingles in the same pattern that Kendall creates with his eyes.

"I've been thinking about this." Kendall murmurs. "That kiss had me thinking."

"A-about me?"

"About you." Kendall nods. James sways and Kendall moves until they've met in the middle and there's no space left between them.

James forgets. He forgets everything, all at once, in such a rush that he nearly blacks out from the intensity of the nothingness inside his mind. He can't focus on any thought or emotion or fact; all he can do is _feel_.

And right now, all he can feel is Kendall's lips crushing into his own.

Kendall kisses him with the expertise of someone who isn't asking for permission, but taking what is already his. There's nothing soft or gentle here. Where their last kiss had been something...well, something freaking incredible-James hasn't forgotten _that_ even if he is well on his way to forgetting his own name-this kiss is something entirely different.

This kiss dominates his every sense. He can smell the minty burn of Kendall's aftershave, taste the beer and smoke on Kendall's tongue, feel the scrape of Kendall's teeth against his bottom lip and Kendall's hands pushing and pulling and putting James exactly where he wants him.

The shock of how _good_ it is wears off after a moment and James re-enters his body, electricity jolting his every nerve. He pushes against Kendall, winding one hand into his hair, tugging at the strands to pull Kendall's head back just a little, giving James a better angle.

He puts his other hand on Kendall's neck, fingertips tingling with satisfaction that they're finally, actually touching his skin. The burn of it is almost half as good as the burn in his stomach and he gives in to the need pushing inside of him, digging his fingers a little deeper. He's rewarded immediately with a low groan ripped from Kendall's throat.

"Fuck." Kendall groans as he allows himself to be pushed back against the passenger door, James climbing to crowd his space.

It's awkward, their legs too long and their bodies too big to be comfortably splayed in the front of the truck. He shifts then just a little bit more, one hand thrown up against the now steamy window to hold himself in place, and their hips align and-

Sparks dance across his blackening vision. The sounds that fill the truck are animalistic, deep, heavy...they're so good that the sounds alone are enough to make more sparks fly.

James juts their hips together again, a gentle, precise push of his hips just to see what Kendall does.

Kendall's eyes flash.

His hands drop from where they'd been clenching onto James' shoulders and James is trapped in his gaze, those dark eyes holding him completely still while his fingers start to work the button of James' jeans.

It pops open and he slides the zipper down, never breaking eye contact. James wants to look down, wants to see the way Kendall's fingers look as they push at his jeans, but he can't, not even a little glance. All he can do is drown in the sea of Kendall's eyes and listen as his trembling breath fills the truck.

With his jeans now pushed down to his knees, James is not just trapped by Kendall's eyes-he's also physically trapped and he has to roll over Kendall's body, the hard lines of their bodies scraping against one another in such a delirious, slow way that he lets out a hiss.

But then he's on his side, pressed against the seat, and he clutches onto Kendall to keep them both on the seat. He's practically on top of Kendall. He shimmies and kicks until his pants are around his ankles, toeing off his boots and then finally, _finally_ , getting his pants all the way off.

"This is a damn Olympic sport." He huffs out, shifting again so he's holding himself up above Kendall's body. One hand clutches around the top of the seat, the other fisted and pressed into the cushion beside Kendall's head.

Kendall blinks at him. His mouth is parted just a little bit, lips swollen from James' own mouth having ravaged them. His hair is a wild mess, and James can't even touch it because he has to hold himself up but he does lower his mouth to Kendall's, swallowing the little surprised sound he makes at the sudden kiss.

Kendall doesn't stay surprised for long.

As if the kiss reminded him what they were doing, Kendall throws himself into hyper speed. His tongue plunges into James' mouth, deepening their kiss. He licks at the roof of his mouth, curling his tongue around James', slowly and carefully unravelling every bit of James' until he's a writhing mess. Kendall holds onto James' hip, fingernails digging into the skin there, and it hurts in such a delightful way that James kisses him harder.

Kendall's other hand slides down his chest, a trail of goosebumps following the movement. It lights him up from the inside, freezing him from the outside-a contradiction of physical sensations, following the confusion in his head.

When Kendall's hand stills and he pulls back from the kiss, breathing heavily, James momentarily remembers that they're in the goddamn parking lot of the local bar and anyone could see them. Two grown men in a truck that's parked pretty much in the center of the parking lot. There's nothing innocuous about them.

Kendall licks his lips, drawing all of James' attention to watch the movement, and then Kendall slips his hand into James' boxers and curls around him and-

Suddenly, James doesn't give a _shit_ if they're in the middle of the parking lot. He doesn't care if everyone in Poplar can see them.

He moans out, long and loud and embarrassing as all hell. The sound fills the cab and he has to bite harshly on his bottom lip to keep form doing it again when Kendall starts moving his hand up and down, twisting his wrist at the top, then down and up. It's a bit dry and a bit of a burn and a bit too much, but in such a good way that James feels half a second away from passing out completely.

It's everything James can do to stop himself from thrusting down hard and dirty and desperate against any part of Kendall he can touch. His muscles tremble and ache with the effort of holding himself still.

Kendall's other hand, somehow, is still free and James nearly blacks out when he hears the sound of Kendall's jeans unzipping. He feels the scrape of Kendall's jeans against his own thighs as he pushes them down. Kendall stops pumping him, fingers relaxing and holding him loosely, and James' eyes fly open. He briefly wonders when they'd fallen closed.

"Don't…" He gets out, though it's barely more than a breath. "Don't stop."

Kendall looks at him, eyes just pupil and lips curled into a dangerous smile. He shifts closer to James, slotting one of his legs between James', and their cocks align.

Bright sparks light up behind James' eyelids.

"Fuck." He groans out, hips rotating and grinding down against Kendall's. Each time their bodies brush against each other, the two men let out matching little groans.

Kendall grabs both of them in his hand and moves his hand slowly, up and down. James' fingers tighten around Kendall's hip, holding him onto the seat, one of his legs thrown across Kendall's hip to give him better access.

The dry burn of Kendall's hand from before is gone, their precome mixing together to let Kendall's fingers slide easily and wetly across them. He can't move much at all from the position they're in, forced to just let Kendall do what he wants. It burns a little better and he doesn't focus on how _good_ it feels to not have any control of the situation.

James buries his face into Kendall's neck, placing hot, open mouthed kisses on the juncture between his neck and collarbone. Each time Kendall flicks his wrist, James gasps, his tongue flickering out and scraping against the sweaty-salty skin beneath his mouth. When Kendall tilts his hips, rocking into his hands, it brightens the feeling so thoroughly that James can't stop himself from biting down hard.

A low, sharp sound rushes from Kendall's mouth, and he rocks his hips again and again and James lets his teeth sink into the fragile skin there, sucking bruises when he pulls back, kissing the blossoming blue marks each time.

It's too much and it's not enough. Something desperate like a whine builds in the back of James' throat. He wants _more_ , needs more. More...anything. More everything.

Kendall works him as if he can hear the incoherent thoughts rambling inside James' mind and it's not until Kendall complies with another hard thrust of his hips, jutting his cock harshly against James', that he realizes he's been talking out loud.

He moans out Kendall's name in a long sigh, tongue wrapping around the sounds to taste the way they move in his mouth.

Kendall's other hand flies to James' head, fisting the hair at the nape of his neck hard, and pulling him in for another crushing kiss.

"Shit, fuck, oh…" He mumbles between the harsh kisses and then Kendall's hips are stuttering. James looks down just in time to see Kendall's cock twitch, and then he's coming, hard, all over his hand and the bottom of the bottom of his shirt.

The sight finishes anything left inside of James and he lets the kiss fall away to nothing but open mouths pressed together, lips barely moving, as his own vision tunnels, body tensing tight, and his own come joins Kendall's on their bodies.

When his head clears enough of the buzzing, James slumps into the seat. Kendall's body has slumped against his, too, and their heartbeats pound furiously against each other from beneath their prospective t-shirts. James can only feel the body pressed against him, only hears his pulse inside his veins.

Eventually, their softening cocks and slowly calming pulses are too much to ignore and, without a word, they pull apart from one another.

James wipes his hands on his boxers, cleaning himself up as best he can. He gets dressed as fast as he can, trying to wiggle into his jeans without hurting himself or pressing the material too hard against the mess in his boxers.

Kendall glances down at his t-shirt, wrinkling his nose at the mess there. He lifts it gingerly and uses his boxers to clean himself off. Then he stuffs himself back into his boxers and yanks his jeans up; they hadn't been kicked off the same way that James' had and he looks so close to presentable in such little time that James is almost offended.

James feels thoroughly debauched. But somehow, Kendall still looks unaffected.

 _Except_ , James can't help but think a little vindictively, _for those big bruises._

The hickies are vivid against his flush but paling skin, and James likes the way the bruises color Kendall's neck.

"Well..." Kendall says, clearing his throat. His voice is rough and, God help him, something twinges in James' gut. "Not bad, James."

James studiously tries not to blush. He fails miserably. "Um, you, too." He doesn't sound half as disinterested as Kendall had. He is _so_ not aloof.

Kendall winks at him, and then pats his pockets. He frowns, ducking down to the floor of the truck, and coming back with a pack of cigarettes. He salutes James. "I'll be seeing you."

James' mouth drops a little, but he doesn't say anything, just watches as Kendall unlocks the truck's door and shimmies out, walking across the parking lot while the door slams behind him.

Through fogged windows, he can faintly make out the shape of Kendall lighting a cigarette and walking down the road, past the bar, and out of sight.

James sits there until Kendall is long gone, until the windows aren't foggy anymore, until his brain manages to come up with any thought.

Unfortunately, the only thought he's able to come up with is:

 _I am so fucking screwed._

* * *

 **Done! So, Kames have met again and got right down to business it seems. :P**

 **I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter, as well as if you happened to have a favorite part/moment!**

 **Again, I hope you all enjoyed! I'm not exactly sure when the next chapter will be up, but it will definitely be up by this weekend at the latest!**

 **Until then!**

 **-Epically Obsessed**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello again everyone! New chapter time!**

 **Before we get started, I would like to thank everyone that read last chapter! I would also like to give a huge thank you to winterschild11, Guest, Side1ways, and RainbowDiamonds for reviewing!**

 **I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

Kendall is so fucking screwed.

He just wanted to go to the bar and drink the taste of the competition out of his mouth. He just wanted to have a few beers and maybe a couple shots and find someone to take to his motel room that _wasn't_ the guy across the street.

But of course, the guy across the street stumbled into the bar when he was four beers in and fucking _stared at him_ and, well, Kendall had never said no to a challenge before.

He hadn't meant to stare back. Hadn't meant to walk right into his space and taste his breath on his tongue. Hadn't meant to lead him to his truck and hadn't meant to let the guy fuck his fist until they were both coming all over themselves, messy and desperate.

It was like he was still fucking sixteen, but instead, he was a grown man, obsessed with the one guy in the dumb as hell town he shouldn't have been in.

He wipes his hands down the front of his pajama pants, grimacing at the sweat gathered there. The shower he'd taken when he'd stumbled into the motel room, body spent and mind whirling, barely helped wash away the feeling of James Diamond's hands on him.

Kendall throws himself onto the bed, thoughts rumbling as loudly as his pulse.

He hadn't meant to get involved with James at all. But, whatever.

So his boss will be mad if he finds out-the rivalry is stupid and makes little sense to Kendall anyway. Who cares that two restaurants are competition to each other? That's how businesses in the same town work. And, the two men don't even serve the same food. The fact that Savory Arts and Brooke's seem so determinately pitted against each other is a dumb, idiotic thing.

And, besides. If either of the restaurants is going to win, it's going to be Brooke's. Savory Arts is doing well now, sure, but the place is new and Griffin is a jerk. As soon as Kendall gets enough money to leave town, he'll gas up the junker and be out before Griffin can even beg him to stay. Then the place won't have good pastries and everyone will realize Griffin is a bonehead and James' little ramshackle diner will be the reigning champion.

So if he wants to fuck the future reigning champion, it's whatever. It's not like they're dating or anything. And it's not like he owes anything to Griffin anyway.

He glances at the clock, grimacing when it blinks back two a.m. at him. He's got to be at work by nine and at the rate his thoughts are going, he'll be obsessing over this new development all night if he doesn't stop himself.

Kendall shuts off the lights and crawls under the covers. With the same amount of practiced single-mindedness Kendall uses when he leaves a city without saying anything to anyone, he closes his eyes and focuses on the darkness until he fades off into sleep.

XxX

The next morning is a rush of crafting cheesecakes and dabbling with the recipes left behind for cakes. Kendall knows the dark german chocolate will be a thousand times better in the cake recipe that Logan left for him than the shit milk chocolate recommended, but convincing Griffin of that takes the majority of the morning.

By the time Griffin begrudgingly tells him to go on break, Kendall's sweating and pissed. He's made half a dozen desserts and they're all _fantastic_ , he's sure of that, and even after Griffin admits that they're really good, he still says customers will want what they're used to.

They're used to shit, but Griffin doesn't necessarily take kindly to hearing that.

Lunch time rolls around and Kendall would rather eat dirt than eat anything made in Griffin's kitchen. He shucks off the apron and tosses on a hoodie to hide the flour stains and leaves the restaurant, only barely stopping himself from flipping the entire staff off when he leaves.

He swipes the back of his hand across his forehead, brushing the sweat there away. He squints in the bright sunlight and gives it about two seconds of thought before crossing the street and going into Brooke's.

The bell above the door rings and even though he knows it's unlikely, Kendall feels as if every head in the place swings to him.

He blinks, then glares, and then saunters over to the corner-most booth and throws himself into it.

A bubbling waitress appears almost instantly.

"You're new." She says, grinning. "I'm Stephanie, your waitress today."

Kendall softens his glare because he might be a prick, but he's not going to be rude to the staff. He keeps enough of it on to appear unapproachable, though. "Menu?"

She offers him one, unfazed by his gruff tone. He takes it and then shrugs. "What's good?"

She hums and taps a finger to her lips. "I like the burger the best. Classic, easy." She kisses her pinched fingers. "Magnificent."

He bites back a smile. "Yeah, sure. Fries and a coke, too."

"Perfect!" She takes the menu from him and grins again. "Coming right up."

Stephanie bounces away. He watches her dart off to the kitchen, then looks around the rest of the place.

So. This is where James works.

He brushes the thought aside instantly. He didn't come here because of James or last night or anything like that-just because he's thought about the way James sounded all night, plaguing his dreams, doesn't mean he came here for _that_. He just needed food and this was close enough to be a good option for his lunch break.

The place is in desperate need of a makeover. He knew that just from looking outside, but being _inside_ makes it all the more obvious. It's almost shameful that the place is so outdated. Kendall's worked in dozens of restaurants across the country and barely any of them looked this bad with an owner who cared so much.

Not that he knows how much James cares, but he can kind of guess. Their first meeting didn't inspire a lot of "I don't care" vibes.

It's not exactly bustling and it's definitely not as busy as Savory Arts was when he left, but the place isn't doing too badly. There are some people there and they all seem jovial and happy and the place does smell pretty amazing. Kendall's willing to bet his pastries are twice as good as anything this joint's got, but the food smells great and that's not something Kendall would willingly say about Savory Arts.

There's something about this place that Kendall can't quite put his finger on. It's not necessarily the atmosphere and it's not necessarily not. It's just something about the place that feels...comforting.

It feels like when he's driving sixty down an empty interstate on his way to somewhere new-feels like no expectations and like he's not bothering with anything or anyone but himself. It feels selfish in the best way possible.

His food comes, breaking his musings, and Stephanie sets it down with more flourish than is strictly necessary. He thanks her and digs in.

He understands instantly why James cares so much about this place.

The food should be simple and greasy and completely unremarkable. It's a cheap burger in a small town in Kansas. But it's...it's _really_ good and reminds Kendall instantly why some people stick around places.

James must love to cook. He must love the heat of the kitchen the way that Kendall sometimes loves the heat of the oven; the feeling of creating something so pleasurable, so brief.

He eats the meal with few breaks, his focus singularly narrowed on the experience of understanding someone from tasting what they've created.

It reminds him of baking with his grandmother when he was young; the smell of cinnamon and the feeling of dough giving way beneath his kneading knuckles.

He doesn't know how a goddamn burger has done it, but he realizes instantly that he picked the wrong team by going into Savory Arts that day.

It's not until he's polished off the last bite and chased it down with a long pull of his coke, that Kendall realizes he's being watched.

He looks up and locks eyes with James.

James stands at the kitchen door, long legs crossed and his arms folded across his chest. He's wearing a half apron tied around his waist and the button up is pushed up to his elbows. His brown hair is messy but not half as messy as it had been last night. Kendall feels alight with the look.

The attraction between them is nearly as strong as the hatred between their restaurants. The two contradicting feelings bristle against one another, even from across the room.

Kendall's eyes drop to scan James before darting back up, a magnet unable to avoid James' hazel eyes. The dome of silence between them crashes with the contact and then James is crossing the room and sliding into the seat across his.

Kendall is thankful for the seclusion of the corner booth he chose when James settles in front of him.

The man holds his shoulders straight and his face is blank, but it's also burning bright red and he swallows over and over again as if regaining his strength. Kendall thinks it must have taken quite a bit for the man to gather his confidence to cross the room.

They might not have spoken much last night, or ever, but Kendall's pretty sure confidently sliding into a booth of the guy you fooled around with in your truck last night isn't something James has done often.

"Hey." Kendall leans back in the booth, trying to pretend like he hadn't been thinking about how much he liked the way James moved or sounded or cooked for the past twenty-four hours. He lets his face relax into a smirking impassivity, something he mastered at sixteen and hasn't quite let go of yet.

James' lips flicker down into a frown before smoothing them out again. "You're at my restaurant."

Kendall raises an eyebrow, not bothering to respond with words. What could he say? _Who cares? Is that okay? Sorry?_ He doesn't want to get into any of those options.

James looks around before letting his eyes fall back to Kendall's. It seems as accidental as it does effortless and Kendall decidedly does _not_ feel his pulse quicken.

He doesn't know what the fuck it is about this guy that keeps him looking. He doesn't mean to stare but then he can't stop. Maybe it's that this town is boring as shit otherwise, or that his boss told him not to get with the guy as if he's a child, or maybe it's because something underneath James' skin is begging for Kendall to draw it out with his tongue and teeth.

His skin flashes with heat at the thought and from the way James squirms a bit in his seat, James thinks he might be thinking along a similar line.

"What can I help you with?" Kendall asks, as if he's not the one that came to Brooke's in the first place.

James blinks at him. "Nothing."

It's not necessarily a harsh statement, but it bothers him all the same. "Good."

"Good." James repeats. Then he shakes his head. "You're the enemy."

Kendall feels his eyebrows climbs his forehead. He opens his mouth before letting it fall shut. He's the _enemy_?

"I am not."

"You are." James insists. He leans forwards, arms on the tables, his fingers intertwined. It gives him a serious demeanor, as if he's not saying the stupidest shit. "You're _my_ enemy."

Kendall mimics his stance, because he's making fun of him and definitely _not_ because it lets them lean close enough that he can see the flecks in James' eyes.

"And why is that?" Kendall asks, his voice dipping low and his eyes flickering across James' face. James' breath hitches and his eyes narrow in on Kendall's neck where he knows dark marks are bruised into his skin. It gives him the smallest thrill inside his chest to see the way James' pupils blow, just a little wider. "Because I'm Griffin's pastry chef?"

"Yes." James has drawn his gaze away from Kendall's neck, and Kendall can't help the grin that pulls his lips wide.

"Didn't seem like I was your enemy last night." Kendall manages to keep his voice low, but the indignant squeak James makes gives the topic away. He's pretty sure he sees Stephanie flicking a curious look their way.

"That," James says, "is not what I'm talking about."

Kendall lets his tongue slip out to wet his bottom lip. James' eyes track it. "What are you talking about then?"

"You're why Griffin is doing better." James says after a moment of silence, having spent that time dragging his focus from Kendall's lips. It feels akin to victory.

"I don't give a shit about Griffin." As an afterthought, he adds, "Or this dumbass rivalry."

"You're a part of this rivalry now."

"I'm really not."

"Oh, but you are. I've been told your pastries are the best in town."

Pleasure so surprising shoots through him. Kendall freezes his muscles to stop himself from visibly preening under the attention. Momentarily, he stunned silent from the reaction he had. He _knows_ he's a really good pastry chef; it's why he gets away with half the shit he does.

He's been told a dozen times by a dozen different people in a dozen different places that his stuff is the best in town. But something about the way James says it, respectfully and begrudgingly all at once, forces something to unravel inside of Kendall.

He hates it, so he glares just to compensate. "I don't give a _shit_ ," He repeats, "about this dumbass rivalry."

James stares at him hard. Then, quietly, "Prove it."

"How?"

"Spy for me." James says, laughing a little. It's a joke, and James knows it and Kendall knows it.

Again, Kendall only thinks about the decision for two seconds before aligning himself with James.

"Sure." He agrees. He aims for flippant but the agreement itself denies flippancy.

James' eyes widen. He gapes at Kendall for nearly a full minute before, dumbly, asking, "What?"

Kendall leans closer again. They'd both straightened through the conversation, but now, they both move towards each other, as if falling into the space. "I'll be your spy."

"You will?"

"Yes." Kendall licks his lips. James is way too busy staring at him without blinking to even notice this time and somehow, it endears him to Kendall.

"I...I was kidding." James mutters.

Kendall shrugs. "So what? Griffin's a jackass. And I'm not your enemy."

He doesn't know why it matters to him that James knows it. Sure, the guy is hot as hell, but clearly being his so-called enemy doesn't prevent anything from happening between them.

The bar last night proved that they could consider each other indifferently and still have a real nice time. Also, the entire concept of having an enemy when they're just goddamn chefs in restaurants is laughable. It's a childish idea that Kendall really shouldn't even be entertaining, let alone interacting with.

So it doesn't matter how James considers him-enemy, stranger, friend, something else. Kendall doesn't care about this guy and he doesn't really care about his job. He's only here for a few weeks, two months tops, before he's saved enough cash to get the hell out of this goddamn town. So, however James considers him, it really, truly doesn't matter.

He swallows anyway, waiting a bit too breathlessly to find out what James will say.

James considers him and it takes more effort not to squirm under James' scrutiny than Kendall is happy admitting to. After a bout of silence, the only thing breaking through their quiet interaction being the occasional scrape of a plate or ding of the bell above the door, James nods.

"Okay." He says. "Welcome to the team."

"The team?"

"The Brooke's team." James elaborates. "The Anti-Griffin Team."

Kendall shakes his head. "Um...okay."

A smile breaks across James' face. It shifts something on him, eases the tension he was holding. It looks good on him and Kendall nearly smiles back. He wants to glare. Instead, he smirks. It's the only compromise his body and mind can make at the moment.

"How was the food?"

 _Insanely fucking incredible._ "Pretty good." He says.

James' shoulders rise as if he gave the compliment that he'd wanted instead of the half-hearted one he'd shot out. "Good. I'm glad."

For some reason, it makes Kendall feel like a dick that he didn't actually tell the whole truth with the compliment. So he adds, "I can see why Griffin's worried."

James' mouth opens and he looks...bright.

They look at one another a bit too long, too much staring and too much quiet. It feels acutely nice and Kendall breaks it when he realizes that. Something bubbles in his throat and he has to tear his gaze fully away from the man. He looks around for a clock. There isn't one in sight.

"It's half past two." James supplies when Kendall huffs out in frustration.

His head snaps up. "Shit, I'm late."

James reaches across the table and pulls Kendall's plate to him before standing, gathering the dirty dishes. "Can't have that. Need my spy to have a job."

Kendall rolls his eyes, grabbing the hoodie he'd discarded earlier and throwing it on again. He hesitates before standing. James fills the space by sending him a little three finger wave around the empty glass in his hand and then turns, heading back to the door that must lead to the kitchen.

Kendall puts the money on the table for his meal and stands up, carefully away of the waitress and several patrons eyes on him as he weaves his way through the restaurant. He darts out as inconspicuous as he can, trying to keep a blank mask over his expression.

The bite of cold outside refreshes him. He doesn't know what the fuck is wrong with him or why he's so hellbent on making poor decisions. Every one of his interactions with James goes against what he sets out to do.

Sure, James is hot. His brunet hair and broad shoulders give him that good, old All-American look that Kendall has been known to go after. It doesn't help the guy is also shy and adorable as hell and almost endearing in a way.

So he's a hot, bumbling shy guy and Kendall's a cynical asshole who has a type. He's never really been one to act crazy over a cute guy before, but, fuck it. Poplar is boring as hell, his boss is an asshole, and if he wants to go a little crazy for the hot guy next door, fuck it, he will.

The walk back to Savory Arts is slow, especially considering he's over ten minutes late from his lunch break. When he gets there, Griffin's red-faced and yelling and Kendall decided that, yeah, he really doesn't mind helping sabotage the guy the best he can.

And if that means he gets to see James a little more, maybe get to have a repeat performance of last night, or even something more, in an actual bed, well... Kendall isn't going to complain about that.

* * *

The space inside his chest feels like a balloon. Every ding of the bell puffs a huge breath of air into it, letting it grow larger and larger completely unchecked. He can't control it or stop the inflation; he can only let his chest puff out further each time.

He knows the only options are Kendall walking through the door, tying the end of the balloon off so it's safely blown; or, Kendall continues to not show up, and the balloon keeps getting blown with air until it pops.

The door opens; it's Dak, back from making a deposit at the bank down the road. The balloon grows and James tries hard not to glare at his friend for not being who he wanted him to be.

"Boss man." Dak says, grinning. He is entirely unaffected by James' bad mood and James pretends not to know why. "I see you're still watching the door."

"I'm always watching the door, Dak." He says a little harshly. "I like to know who's in my restaurant."

"Uh-huh, sure." Dak responds as Stephanie comes from behind the counter, hopping onto a stool. It's twenty minutes to closing time and no one has come into the restaurant for half an hour, something that's both worrisome and relieving.

James' nerves feel like they've been fried, sauteed in a pan like onions. He feels them quivering and shriveled, like one small thing could set them ablaze.

Dak wraps an arm around Stephanie's shoulder, handing James a receipt. He pockets it without looking. He'll add it to the books later and makes sure everything adds up. For now, he just wants his friends to drop the subject before it becomes an actual subject.

Stephanie looks between her boyfriend and boss, lips twitching. She's not above openly mocking them, as last week proved when James couldn't help himself from sliding into Kendall's booth.

The guy had just come into his restaurant only a few hours after their...evening together. The curiosity and anticipation had nearly choked him and when the rush died down, James just had to figure out why he was there.

He hadn't even thought about how Stephanie would be watching. About how Dak would have figured it out when he hadn't returned to the kitchen. He just wanted to be closer to Kendall.

Just to figure out why he was here, of course. James doesn't _care_ or...God, he doesn't like him or anything. In fact, James is pretty sure he hates him. He just hates him and really would like to mess around with him again. The two things, James decides, don't have to be mutually exclusive.

James taps his fingers against the counter-top, forcing his head to stop snapping towards the door. He doesn't need to keep looking. It's been five days since Kendall came in, all charming and hot, and agreed to spy on Griffin for him. It was just a joke and even though James kind of thought they were serious, clearly it didn't become anything genuine. Since he hasn't come in again since that day, James needs to just move on. Kendall isn't interested.

James sighs. Dak looks up from the conversation he's having with Stephanie and gives him a knowing look.

He would rather Dak still be bugging him about Kyle. At least he doesn't actually care about that.

Guilt flares in his stomach. It deflates the balloon a little, at least, refocusing him on the shame. He shouldn't be thinking this much about a guy he literally just met. Clearly, Kendall isn't into him. He was just a convenient guy for Kendall to screw and James kind of okay with that. It was good. _Really_ good, surprisingly, overwhelmingly good.

That doesn't matter though because Kendall doesn't like him that way and he only broke up with Kyle a few weeks ago. He needs to stop forgetting about that.

"You guys get going." James breaks himself from the spell descending over him. He feels a little nauseous and he just wants to clean up, do the paperwork that needs to be done, and go to bed.

Stephanie frowns, exchanging a glance with Dak. "We can stay. Help clean up."

"No." James straightens up and goes to grab a rag from behind the counter. "You guys get out of here."

"We were thinking about going down to see Carlos at the bar." Dak says. "You should come join us."

The idea of stepping foot back into the bar after what happened last time sends a rush of heat up James' spine. He shakes his head fervently. "No, I've got things to do here."

"Oh, come on." Stephanie tries. "It's been ages since we've all been out together."

James clenches his fists around the rag, swallowing. He tries to shake the obvious discomfort of his expression and shrugs. "Maybe next time. Tell Carlos I said hey."

Dak, at least, doesn't push, opting to send James a sad smile. "Come on, Steph. See you later, Jay."

James waves them off. The bell above the door dings when they leave and once it shuts completely, James can't help but sag in relief.

The whole week had spent his nerves. Every day, hoping he'd see Kendall, then being annoyed that he was hoping to see Kendall in the first place. Friday came way too slowly and he's thankful that tomorrow, Dak and Stephanie are going to open without him for the first few hours.

Reaching behind the counter, James turns the radio on. It's already programmed to an old rock station and the music blares loudly through the speakers. He doesn't really play music when the customers are here, definitely not anything this loud or rowdy, but it helps make the time go a little faster when he's by himself.

He wipes down the counter before moving onto the tables, cleaning them slowly while he plans his morning off. He thinks maybe he's watch the episodes he has saved on his DVR while in his sweats and eat as much pizza as the delivery guy feels comfortable leaving for one person.

He gets a little lost in the fantasy of it, stacking chairs and thoroughly enjoying the idea of sleeping a full eight hours later tonight.

He actually gets so lost into it that it takes him a full five seconds to notice that the door is opening. The bell goes off and James doesn't even hear it, only recognizing that the room is disturbed when a gust of cold air breaks his concentration.

James turns towards the door, and freezes when he sees who has entered.

* * *

 **Done! So, it looks like both James and Kendall are in deep, even though they're kind of in denial about it. :P**

 **I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter, as well as if you happened to have a favorite part/moment!**

 **Again, I hope you all enjoyed! The next chapter will be up within the next few days, so you won't have to wait too long for that!**

 **Until then!**

 **-Epically Obsessed**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hello everyone! It's that time again! :P**

 **Before we get started, I would like to thank everyone that read last chapter! I would also like to give a huge thank you to winterschild11, RainbowDiamonds, Guest, and Side1ways for reviewing!**

 **I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

Carefully, he leans the broom against the wall. He regrets it instantly because now his hands are free and he has no idea what to do with them. He's a second away from grabbing the broom again just to start sweeping and ignore the adrenaline beneath his veins when Kendall pushes away from the door.

"Still open?" Kendall asks, one of his eyebrows arching delicately. He looks like a vision.

The weeks that he hadn't seen Kendall clearly hadn't done the guy any harm. He somehow looks _better_ than he did that day. His hair is neatly styled, he's wearing another tight shirt, this one long-sleeved and snug against the swell of lean muscle. His jeans are tucked into his boots and his hands are shoved into his pockets. He looks like something out of a magazine and James is floored, as always, by his presence.

James blinks. The momentary reprieve from his image clears his head a little. "No, we're closed."

"I know." Kendall rolls his eyes, stalking towards him. He stops when he's only a few inches away, too close and in his personal space, but James decidedly doesn't say anything. "I was joking."

"Oh." James says dumbly. "Good one."

They don't say anything else, but the silence between them is filled with the thick feeling of his own heartbeat and the rock music coming too loudly from the speakers.

"So…." Kendall breaks the silence, grabbing a nearby chair off of the table and setting it upright in the middle of the floor, sitting down. He looks up at James, crossing his arms and ankles locked around either leg of the chair.

James scrambles for a chair of his own, setting it across from Kendall and throwing himself into it enough that the legs scrape against the floor a little. He winces and then tries to pretend like he didn't.

Kendall watches him, thoroughly amused. "You okay?"

"I'm okay." James confirms, a weak smile the only offering he has.

The restaurant is dimmed from the darkness streaming in through the windows and the music beats along to the pulse inside his wrists and Kendall watches him, uncaring that he's staring.

"Why are you here?" James finally blurts out.

Kendall cocks his head. "Can't a spy visit his client?"

"Am I not your boss?"

"Nope." He pops his lips around the _p_ , grinning. "A client works for me. If you were my boss, I'd work for you."

"Don't want me in charge of you again?" James nearly slams his hand across his mouth.

Kendall's eyes flash. He leans forward, arms on his legs, and says, "I think I'll take it from here."

"Well, thanks for the visit then." James scratches at the back of his neck. He definitely is _not_ blushing.

Kendall sits back, throwing his arms over the top of the chair. His stance broadens his shoulders and makes the t-shirt stretch a bit in a very delightful way. "Anytime."

James' hands twitch and he folds them together in his lap. "Any news?"

"Nope." Kendall shrugs. "Griffin's an asshole, but I'm honestly not sure he's really spy-worthy."

James frowns. "That's...probably true."

"Sorry to report." Kendall looks around, his gaze slowly dragging across all of Brooke's. "When did you guys open?"

James clears his throat. "Um, about twenty years ago. It was my mom's."

Kendall's eyes flicker back to James before going back to his surveying. "Did she hand over the reigns or something?"

"Or something." James says.

Kendall doesn't press, just lets out a soft humming sound from his throat. James waits for Kendall to finish his surveying and when he seems to, he turns to him.

Kendall's frowning, his forehead crinkled and his lips turned down in an almost comical pout. His jaw is clenched and his whole body seems to be drawn tightly, as if he's waiting to defend himself.

His jaw ticks and then he says, "I want to bake something. For you."

James' eyes widen. "Um...okay."

"Shit." Kendall mutters under his breath. Then he stands up, kicking the back of the chair so it flips and he grabs it mid-air. He puts it back on the tabletop he'd found it on and then, without saying anything else to James, stalks past him towards the kitchen.

James scrambles to follow.

Kendall's already shoved his sleeves up on his elbows and started washing his hands by the time James stumbles through the door of his own freaking kitchen.

"Why are we baking?" He joins Kendall at the sink, lathering his hands up.

Kendall ignores him, continuing his washing. When he's rinsed off, he grabs a clean towel and dries.

He hands the towel to James when he's shut off the water but doesn't say anything.

 _Okay,_ James thinks, _no explanation then._

James goes to the pantry and pulls out flour and baking powder. Kendall dips in behind him and returns a few minutes later with an armful of other ingredients.

"Mixing bowls?" Kendall asks, carefully lining the ingredients on the island workspace. He looks at them, contemplatively, as if there's some sort of discernable story to be told by the packages.

Dutifully, James goes over to the cabinet and grabs a large and a medium mixing bowl, deliberating for a second before throwing a small one into the biggest just in case.

James takes the bowls back to Kendall, setting them in front of the pastry chef.

He looks up at James, lifting his eyebrows in a silent show of gratitude. Then he starts pouring dry ingredients into the medium bowl, completely passing by the measuring cups. There doesn't seem to be a rhyme or reason as to why he chooses the amount of sugar or flour or salt he does, just pouring a little, frowning into the mixture, before adding a little more.

James crosses to the other side of the counter, leaning against the island and watching. "What are you making?"

"You'll find out." Kendall replies.

James watches more closely. "Walk me through what you're doing."

Kendall glances up, still pouring into the bowl. He stops without looking down and recaps the jar, setting it aside. "I'm just going to mix the dry ingredients," He explains, "before adding it to the wet mixture."

James stops himself from rolling his eyes. "I get that. I mean, why aren't you using a measuring cup?"

"A measuring cup?" Kendall laughs, throwing in a heap of cocoa powder. "This isn't exactly rocket science, man."

"It's a precise recipe." He argues.

Kendall grabs a whisk and mixes. "It's about knowing. Knowing the ingredients, the texture, and what you want. You can't be rigid. You've just got to know what you want and trust in that."

James cocks his head, watching the way Kendall concentrated on the mixture. He didn't look up or care; he looked all at once completely in ease and in control. James had been surprised, at first, to learn that Kendall was the pastry chef he'd heard so much about-the one basically running his business into the ground.

But seeing him here, the gentle ease of his shoulders and twist of his wrist as he effortlessly created, James saw it. Saw why Kendall was the secret weapon.

Kendall creates a deep depression inside the mixture, letting the bottom of the bowl peek through. He grabs the milk, the oil, and an egg, emptying it into the hole. When it's all poured, he whisks it all together until it becomes a creamy consistency. Then, he grabs various extracts and begins to sprinkle them on top, folding them into the mixture.

James watches, hypnotized by the way the cocoa powder has turned the whole mix into a gooey brownie batter. It should be more shameful than it is that he didn't recognize what the man was making until he was basically done.

"Your desserts need to be made the same way you make your food." Kendall says, setting the finished batter away from him. James dutifully grabs a baking pan and transfers it before going to preheat the oven.

"Which is what way?"

"Like it matters. Not that it matters if the customer likes it or if it is objectively good. But that actually _making_ it matters." Kendall comes over and lowers the heat of the oven by ten degrees.

James turns, the small of his back pressed against the oven. Kendall's so close that way, his body nearly touching James'.

James looks away, swallowing around a growing lump in his throat. "That's...a good review of a cheeseburger."

Kendall laughs. It comes out in a little huff, as if he hadn't thought it would come out at all. "It _was_ a good burger."

James can't help it; his eyes find Kendall's without his permission. Kendall's already looking and their eyes lock.

"I'm-"

Whatever he was going to say gets startled out of him. Kendall jumps when the oven beeps, cursing under his breath.

Kendall turns, grabbing the brownie mix, and nudging James away so that he can put the pan into the oven. James lets himself get pushed away.

The air in the room breaks, the tension draining out, and the two return to the side of the island.

James isn't sure what he should expect from Kendall. Everything he does or says seems to be new and surprising in such an encompassing way. He's a enigma and James decides, with a start, that he wants to know everything.

"Tell me about yourself." James says. His tone has more demand in it than he thinks it ever has. He blinks, but tries to keep his shoulders held back, confident.

Kendall leans against the island, propping his head on his fists. It curls his spine and some of his bravado he carries himself with seeps out-not all of it, James can still see the quirk of his eyebrow and slant of his smirk. But enough that James thinks that maybe Kendall will answer the question.

It's quiet for a long while, but eventually, he does.

"Not much to say." The words are reluctantly pulled out. "I'm just here to get a few bucks."

"Where are you heading?"

"Nowhere. Anywhere." He corrects. "It doesn't matter."

James chews on that. The smell of brownies start coating the air, the chocolate scent filling the room. "Where did you leave from?"

"Last? The last place I stayed at for a while was Chicago."

"Chicago?" James has never been there. He'd been to Kansas City, sure, but living in a city...and a city like Chicago at that...well, James hadn't ever considered it. "How long were you there?"

Kendall cocks his head. "Three months? Maybe four. A long time."

James wouldn't necessarily call four months a long time. "How long do you think you'll stay in Poplar?"

Kendall rolls his eyes. "Who knows. I'm trying to save up enough to not have to stop for a while. I'm not really one for desert states."

"Oh. So, maybe a few months?"

"Maybe."

James isn't sure how he feels about this, but something sits in his chest, just in front of his lungs, and he allows the feeling to tremble a little since he can't necessarily recognize it.

"How long have you been-" James cuts himself off, unsure.

Kendall smiles. "Driving aimlessly?"

"I was going to say traveling."

"A long time."

"So like four months-ish?"

Kendall laughs. It doesn't sound so unfamiliar this time and James nearly shivers from the niceness of it. "Five years. Roughly."

James whistles. Kendall stands straighter, lips twitching. James' cheeks burn. "That's a long time on the road."

"No reason to stop." Kendall says, shrugging. He goes to the oven and leans down, flickering on the oven light and looking at the brownies.

Whatever he sees pleases him. He nods twice and then turns off the light, standing up and leaning against the counter next to the oven.

He folds his arms across his chest, legs stretched out and ankles locked. He looks like he did that night in the parking lot and James feels heat flush through him.

He ignores it.

"Do you think you ever will?" James asks. "Stop, that is."

Kendall shrugs. "Maybe. If I ever find a place that seems better to be in than to leave."

"No luck yet?"

"Nope." He clicks his tongue. "No luck yet."

James feels that sharpness in his chest more acutely. With pointed effort, he ignores it.

"Maybe-"

"Brownies." Kendall interrupts. "They're ready." He grabs an oven mitt from where it's hanging behind the stove and shuts off the oven, pulling the pan out.

James has to admit, they look pretty incredible. There's just a bit of steam coming out of them and the top looks like it would crack if touched. And the _smell_...James would eat the entire pan if it was allowed.

"Those look great." He tells Kendall.

Kendall doesn't even glance back at him. He looks down at the pan, his back to James. "They will be."

"Cocky." James jokes.

This, at least, gets Kendall to look at him. He winks from behind his shoulder. "You already know that, though."

James' face heats up so fast he almost passes out. Kendall laughs, long and loud. James' face burns brighter at it.

"Shut up." He grumbles. "Just...give me a brownie."

"Hold up one damn second." Kendall turns back to the pan, grabbing a knife from the drawer next to him. "They've got to cool."

"How long have you been a baker?" James crosses the room and leans against the same counter where Kendall had been. It lets him see Kendall's expression even when he tightly watches the brownies. It also puts their bodies close to one another and James is pretty fond of that.

Kendall glances at him before refocusing away from James. "As long as I can remember, I guess. I started doing it for pay at seventeen. Been traveling ever since."

"But pastry chef...doesn't that title require some sort of training?"

Kendall rolls his eyes. "Who knows? All I know it that Griffin told me that's what the title is."

"He's shady." James mutters. "He's got to be."

"He's kicking your ass." Kendall surmised.

James frowned. "Kind of. At first, it was because he was new and, well, Poplar's not really known for new. Then you came and-"

"My god-like baking abilities are showing you up?"

This time, it's James who rolls his eyes. "Yeah, basically."

"Sorry about that." Kendall says. "But I can't help that I have a _gift_."

James laughs and Kendall joins in after a minute.

"When will this magical brownie be ready to eat?" James leans over to look at it more closely and Kendall swats him away.

"In due time." He replies. He turns away from it, leaning against the heated oven and crossing his arms again. It seems to be his only stance and James would think it was weird if it wasn't so attractive.

"I still need to close up." James hates that he sent Dak and Stephanie away. He really doesn't want to mop the floor when he could be hanging out with Kendall.

Kendall looks around, as if noticing that they're in the restaurant for the first time. "Oh, right. I'll get out of your hair."

Panic flares a little. The balloon from before threatens to pop inside of James.

Scrambling for something, he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. "I could save them and you could come over tomorrow."

"Come over?" Kendall repeats.

James nods. His stomach churns and his forehead breaks out in a cold sweat. "I live in the apartment upstairs and we could, I don't know, watch a movie."

"Watch a movie?"

"Yeah, and, like, eat brownies."

"Eat brownies?"

"Stop repeating me." James is pretty sure his voice hitched up an octave. "Just...what?"

Kendall's grin throws James for a loop. "I'm fucking with you." Kendall says. "I'll see you tomorrow. Nine?"

The time the restaurant closes. James nods.

Kendall nods back. "Alright. I guess I'll see you then."

"I guess you will."

Kendall looks at him, just for a second, but it feels so tangible against James' face that the moment lasts decades. When he finally pulls his gaze away, he just turns on his heel and leaves the kitchen. Faintly, James can hear the little ding of the bell, indicating Kendall's departure.

Once again, James finds himself with his mouth hanging open and one thought swirling through his head.

 _I'm so screwed._

* * *

Kendall is going to sew his goddamn lips together if he doesn't stop being such an idiot.

He managed to avoid James and Brooke's in general for a whole week. He hesitated outside the building constantly but he didn't go inside for a _whole, entire week_. And then he caved.

He fucking caved.

Kendall doesn't need people. He doesn't _want_ people. The majority of his life exists simply through coasting and there's something so innately purposeful about James that coasting isn't possible when he's around.

Kendall should hate that. He kind of does.

It intrigues him more, though.

So he'd said fuck it after a week and stormed inside after hours for no good reason other than he wanted to. He fucking wanted to.

He's so screwed.

He stormed inside and pretended like it wasn't weird and baked him brownies and agreed to watch a movie at his place like they're fucking _teenagers_ and the entire time, all Kendall could think about was James' mouth.

James has a really nice mouth. Kendall hates that.

He stands in front of the mirror, hating the largeness of it. The Sunnyside Motel is a giant piece of shit, Kendall knows that, but the fact that the bathroom mirror takes up nearly an entire wall seems so unnecessary that it makes him hate the place even more. He can see his entire body and it's making him regret his t-shirt choice which is making him regret ever being born.

Fuck. He's going insane. He's going fucking insane and he's going to die in this town.

There's something in the water. He's sure of it.

Groaning, Kendall grabs a jacket and throw it on. He needs to get over himself. It's just a movie with a-what is James? A friend? A fuck? A-whatever. It's a movie at a person's house and whether he wears the black t-shirt or the white one, it really doesn't matter.

He doesn't even know why he's so damn interested in James. He doesn't know him well enough to care and he's not naturally interesting enough to be enthralling; he's basically a nobody in a nowhere town and Kendall, for all intents and purposes, shouldn't give a shit.

Which, well, he doesn't. He doesn't give a shit.

He just cares a little. The whole spy gimmick is interesting enough to entertain him. He doesn't give a single shit about the rivalry, but he cares a little about how much James seems to care.

He doesn't really get why James is so worried. The newness of Griffin's place will wear off and pretty soon, he'll be gone and without his desserts to boost up the clientele, there's no way Griffin will keep the lead. James is way too good of a cook for that.

And if the guy ever goes into a single other restaurant and realizes that his place kind of looks like shit, he'll be fairly unstoppable.

Kendall grabs his keys and shakes his head, locking the motel room up when he leaves. He can't keep obsessing. He needs to just say fuck it and let himself do whatever the hell he wants. That's what he's always done and just because this time it includes someone else doesn't mean it's not just as good an idea.

The walk to Brooke's-to James' apartment, apparently-takes twice as long as it needs to. Kendall can't convince his feet to actually lift and walk instead of slowly shuffling.

By the time he gets there, it's a quarter past nine and he feels something building up beneath his skin, lighting him up with little sparks. He doesn't want to call them nerves, necessarily, because he's not _nervous_ about watching a movie with a guy, but he is...anxious, maybe.

Unsure, a little.

It's been a while since he actively wanted to do something.

It's been a while since there was anything worth doing.

Kendall takes a breath that is entirely unnecessary and then pushes through the front door. The obnoxious bell rings out and he would have been annoyed if he wasn't so thoroughly distracted.

James is a good-looking guy. Kendall has no qualms about admitting that. Kendall had been attracted to him almost instantly and, even if he hadn't been, their time in James' pickup truck really would have tipped the scale in his favor.

But tonight, James looks like something out of a damn blockbuster.

He's behind the counter, sleeves of his red flannel shirt pushed up to his elbows. Underneath his flannel, he wears a thin white t-shirt. The collar of it is worn and obviously aged; he can see the way its stretched and accommodated being pulled over his head several times. His jaw has a hint of facial hair, a five o'clock shadow that sharpens his jawline and brings even more attention to his pink lips.

James looks fucking _good_.

Kendall thinks he should have worn the white shirt instead of the black one.

"Kendall!" James straightens up quickly, elbow slamming into the wall behind him as he does so. He winces and pulls the offended body part closer to his chest, rubbing his elbow with his other hand. "Ouch."

"Careful." Kendall intends it to come out wryly.

James' grins at him, dropping his elbow. Kendall thinks he might have failed.

"All good here?" The restaurant looks closed, but Kendall doesn't really know what sort of routine the guy has. He only gave him a few minutes for closing anyway.

But James nods. "Yeah, definitely. Ready?"

James locks the front door, then leads him to a stairwell behind a curtain, half-hidden behind the kitchen, and they climb up the stairs. Kendall takes them two at a time and listens hard to his pounding footsteps, marveling at the way it matches the staccato pace of his pulse.

He's a little surprised that minimal exercise and a hot guy can change his pulse like this. He kind of enjoys it, though.

When he reaches the top of the stairs, there's just a small hallway leading to one door. There's a welcome mat at the front of it and James wipes his feet off almost thoughtlessly before sticking his key in the door, pushing it open with his shoulder, and throwing it wide open.

* * *

 **Done! Yes, I know I'm evil for leaving it there. :P**

 **I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter, as well as if you happened to have a favorite part/moment!**

 **Again, I hope you all enjoyed! The next chapter will pick up where this one left off and mostly likely won't be up until this weekend sometime.**

 **Until then!**

 **-Epically Obsessed**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Hello everyone! So, this is a little late, but you know what they say. Better late than never. :P**

 **Before we get started, I would like to thank everyone that read last chapter! I would also like to give a huge thank you to winterschild11, Guest, Side1ways, and RainbowDiamonds for reviewing!**

 **I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

James steps inside and then looks back at Kendall, raising an eyebrow. James' hands fidget in front of him, toying with the keys, and his teeth keep tugging at his bottom lip. The flesh rolls around and reddens underneath from the attention which distracts Kendall for so long that James eventually clears his throat.

"You coming in?"

The words, though shaped by the pretty pink lips, are enough to break the spell Kendall had accidentally fallen under. He shakes his head to clear it and stomps inside, hesitating only briefly to also wipe his shoes on the mat.

The apartment is small and sparse. Kendall mentally reminds himself to look around later; right now, he can't tear his eyes away from James long enough to really look at the belongings. Instead, he just trails behind James until they stumble onto the couch and fall onto the cushions, next to each other but not touching.

Kendall's skin burns. He ignores it in favor of watching James fumble with the remote.

He flicks the TV on and the news comes on, blaring. James winces and presses down on the remote repeatedly until the volume comes out more reasonably. His cheeks tinge pink from the surprise and Kendall grins.

"What are we watching?" Kendall asks.

James' eyes flicker over to him before pulling away, back to the screen. "I'm good with whatever. Wanna see what's on pay-per-view?"

Ah, the big bucks. As a frequent motel connoisseur, Kendall's familiar with the options on pay-per-view at any given time. He nods his consent and James flicks through the channels, reading the options out quickly when he gets to them.

They agree on a random action flick that neither of them have seen before and while it loads on the screen, James bounces his leg, his knee moving up and down. He lets his gaze dart between the screen and Kendall, face heating up each time he notices Kendall already watching him, too. It would have been annoying if it wasn't so adorable and the differentiation is both tangible and embarrassing for Kendall.

Eventually, the movie begins and both men reluctantly tear their gaze from one another to the screen.

The movie is full of cliche lines and dark scenes where the brightest color is the blood on the protagonist that he claims is "no big deal." It's arguably a very bad movie and if he'd been in his own bed in the motel room, he would've turned it off after thirty minutes.

As it is, though, James is watching the movie intently, hands folded in his lap, and Kendall's content enough to just watch him out of the corner of his eyes.

An hour into the flick, James leans towards him a little.

"Should I go grab the brownies?" He whispers.

Kendall raises his eyebrows, amused. "Sure." He says at full volume because they're not in a damn movie theatre.

The realization hits James, and his eyes widen and he looks away quickly. Then he rolls his eyes and pushes himself off the cushion, going behind the couch to enter the kitchen. Kendall can hear him muttering under his breath but he only makes out _whatever_ and _jerk,_ so he just laughs, turning back to the movie.

The protagonist is running through what appears to be a suburban battle ground and the love interest is screaming at him to stop. Kendall has no idea what's going on.

"Should I reheat them?" James calls from the kitchen.

Kendall doesn't look away from the screen. He really has no idea who the guy is fighting. What the hell is the movie even about? "Whatever." He replies.

There's an explosion on the screen and Kendall laughs. "Holy shit. What the hell is happening?"

James comes back with a plate, stacked high with steaming brownies. Kendall shoots them a look then raises an eyebrow at James. "Why are those steaming?"

"I heated them up."

Kendall hums. "That was fast."

"I used the microwave."

Kendall's jaw drops. "You put my brownies in the fucking microwave?"

"You told me to!"

"I did no such thing."

"I asked if I should heat them up!" James sits the affronted items between them on the middle cushion, folding his arms across his chest. It makes him look like an offended child and Kendall bites hard on his bottom lip not to laugh at him.

When he regains control over his throat, he says, "I assumed you meant the oven."

James rolls his eyes and grabs one of the brownies, pinching a piece of it off and tossing it in his mouth. "Whatever." He grumbles around the dessert in his mouth.

It's disgusting and faintly adorable. Kendall distracts himself by grabbing a brownie of his own.

Kendall barely has a bite in his mouth before James has swallowed and starts staring at him as if he just said the most incredible thing.

With crumbs falling from his chin, he glares at James. "What?"

James shakes his head, taking a bite from the brownie. He chews it contemplatively as he continues his staring.

Kendall shrugs and finishes his brownie, staring back. He doesn't know why James is staring at him like that and he doesn't care. If James is going to be unabashed in his staring, then Kendall will, too. It seems like a good enough compromise to the half-hearted attempts at looking away when caught that James had been doing all night and the way that Kendall had openly glued his eyes wherever he wanted.

He can't help it. He's used to taking whatever he wants-he's used to not really wanting anything. The two sided coin leaves him incapable of stopping himself from moving the brownies to the coffee table beside him and crossing the space of the couch, swallowing the surprised sound that James' throat lets out when their lips touch.

James' mouth is sweeter from the chocolate and Kendall knows his must be, too. He chases after the taste with his tongue, pushing on James' chest until he's flush against the couch and Kendall is climbing onto his lap, straddling him.

He clutches one hand to James' bicep, the other on his cheek, thumb curled around his jaw. It's sharp and _good_ and Kendall can use this position to lift James' chin and kiss him even deeper.

James finally kicks into action, hands flying up and grabbing purchase in Kendall's hair. James tugs and it feels so good, Kendall lets his head be torn away from the kiss so that the low groan he knows is in his throat can fill the space between them instead of Kendall's mouth.

From the way James' eyes flash and his focus narrows on Kendall's mouth, Kendall's pretty sure that was the right decision.

The kiss had only been a second but they're both panting. Kendall's head feels like it's full of confetti, full of half strips of celebration that make it hard to see or know anything else. As they regain control of their breathing, Kendall realizes his hips are moving in small circular motions and James is lifting his own hips up every few seconds, absently meeting him in the middle.

It feels so _good_ and for a second, Kendall contemplates diving back into James' mouth and tearing the clothes off of them. A couch is infinitely better than a truck and he's pretty positive there's got to be a bed in this apartment somewhere.

James' tongue flicks out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip. "I didn't invite you over for this."

Kendall shifts and watches in delight as James' eyes flutter closed. "Well, why not?"

They snap open again. If Kendall grins wolfishly, it's not his fault.

"I...I just mean…" James struggles to speak and Kendall happily helps it along, lifting his weight a little off to James' lap before gently dropping it again. Just a shift, not much-but enough. James' fingers clench in his hair, winding the strands up. He can feel the way James' knuckles are scraping against the nape of his neck, his hair fisted. He wants James to kiss him again.

"What do you mean?" He lowers his mouth, resting so his lips are just barely, just almost pressed against the corner of James' mouth. He slides his hands up until they're clenching the top edge of the couch on either side of James' head. It traps James just a little.

"I mean," He sits up straighter and Kendall _knows_ the intent was to make himself seem stronger, but all it really does is press him closer to Kendall and they both know he's fighting a losing battle. Kendall can feel just how much James doesn't want to win this argument. "I mean that I just wanted to watch a movie with you."

And, sure, Kendall can buy that. But... "Is that _still_ all you want?"

James curses. Shivers run down Kendall's spine and he clenches around the couch's material, just stopping himself from grinding his hips into James'. He _so_ sure that James wants this too, but since the guy seems to be deliberating for some fuck-awful reason, he needs to at least have the decency to not rut against him before getting permission.

But then James lets out a low "Fuck it" and if he doesn't kiss him right now…

He does. James lurches forward, tugging Kendall down at the same time, and their lips crash.

It's messy and harsh and wanting in a way the other night hadn't been. It's urgent not because they're close to being caught or worried about who might be around. It's urgent because James can't keep his hands in one place and Kendall really, really wants to get to know James' body through his tongue.

It's urgent because Kendall, damn him, _missed_ this.

The realization sparks a match inside his gut and he locks his thighs around James, using all his strength to roll them so that he's underneath James, lying longways on the couch. The maneuver was unpracticed and awkward enough that James has to slam a hand on the floor to keep from falling and one of their knees hits the plate of brownies on the coffee table, sending them flying.

"Shit, sorry-" James starts.

Kendall cuts him off with a growl. "Leave it."

The new position lets James take control and it's a thousand times better than anything else they'd done. James yanks the shirt off his back, the flannel and t-shirt coming off together. He throws them somewhere behind him, and then it's just miles of his skin, and it fills Kendall with an almost unbearable heat.

James pulls at Kendall to sit up and when he eventually leans up on his elbows, James wastes no time in pulling the t-shirt off of his body. He looks at him, as he always does, but this time it's so hungry that Kendall's thankful his knees aren't expected to work for a while; he doesn't think he'd be able to stand.

Jame presses them against each other again, laying his body against Kendall's, and sucking soft kisses into his neck. The bruises follow down his collarbone, one hard one on his chest that leaves him writhing and panting, a string of curses falling from his lips without his permission.

Kendall doesn't know what the _fuck_ people get up to in small towns but Jesus Christ, if they learn to kiss like _this_ , he really ought to stick around them more often.

James keeps sucking and kissing his way down Kendall's chest, tongue swiping against his bare nipple. His back arches and his hands fly to James' hair instinctively.

James grins and lavishes there, his attention diverted between one nipple and then the other until Kendall is half a second from storming out in a rage or coming in his pants right there.

James, somehow, gets the message. He pulls his mouth away, lips slick with his own spit, and Kendall wraps his name in a moan.

James' eyes are all pupil now. His lips are red. His neck is shiny with sweat and then, his hands are undoing the buckles of Kendall's belt.

He shimmies out of his jeans, James helping to get them around his knees and tossing the shoes Kendall toes out of off the couch.

When the jeans and shoes are on the floor, James gets on his knees and takes his off, too. It's a bit awkward, but Kendall still can't tear his eyes away-the way James' muscles ripple and adjust, moving and turning and _god_ , he's the hottest man Kendall's ever seen.

He's thought James was hot since the first time they saw each other, his own cigarette between the man's lips, and now they're both in just their boxers, inches away from one another.

James kisses him. It's softer and gentler and he pulls away far too quickly instead of deepening it. Kendall lifts himself up on his elbows, half a second from complaining, when James shimmies down and places the same soft, gentle kiss to the bulge in his boxers.

His boxers respond accordingly. His cock twitches and James grins. He throws one of Kendall's legs on the back of the couch and places the other with his foot flat against the carpeted floor. James settles between his thighs and, still looking at him with lust-blown eyes, mouths Kendall's hard cock through the fabric.

James flattens his tongue against the underside of Kendall's cock, the thin material of his boxers sticking, and the feeling is so much like an electric current that Kendall feels himself shocked, fully and bone-deep. He throws his head back and James lets his hand join him, palming him softly.

"Fuck, fuck, James, _fuck_." The words that he wants are gone. He can't figure out how to phrase anything that will get James to take the last barrier between them off and, fuck, all he wants is James' mouth on him, but his words and throat won't cooperate. As if to emphasize that point, Kendall tries again to speak and a low, desperate keening falls out instead.

James catches on. He slides the boxers down, helping Kendall get them off of one of his legs and letting the material fall to the floor, still around one of his ankles. Kendall looks down at James, about to offer a condom, when James swallows him whole.

His elbows give out and he falls hard against the couch.

"Holy _shit_!"

James' lips and tongue work together, enthusiastically and quickly. He slides his hand to the base where his mouth can't surround, moving lower as he places hot, open mouthed kisses at the base before sliding his lips and hand back up in tandem, tongue swiping across the head.

It's furious and messy and Kendall's rocking his hips against James' face, hands clenched around his shoulders in a goddamn _Olympic_ attempt at not grabbing his hair and fucking his face. James licks a stripe up the the underside of his cock and Kendall's legs lock up, all his muscles desperately trying to hold on to any sort of polite dignity.

Except his throat-his throat has given up on dignity. Moans, pleas, and groans fall from his lips every few seconds, unable to stop a near constant thrum of encouragement. James works him as if it's all he's thought about, as if it's all he wants.

Kendall can't think about anything. His body is too busy feeling and right now, he feels the sensitive head of his cock brush against the hot, swollen lips of James' mouth and he's half a second from astral projecting out of his body.

"James. James, man, stop." He struggles to slur the words out of his mouth, hips already canting and fingernails digging so tightly into James' shoulders that a ping of guilt makes its way through his hazy desire. "Stop or I'm going to come."

He can't believe the words are intelligible, but James pulls off anyway. Kendall's instantly half as relieved as he is disappointed. James swipes the back of his hand across his wet mouth, breath coming out a little too fast.

Then James grins, in such a bright and happy way that Kendall manages to blink through the arousal to recognize it as something new.

He looks so _good_ like that. Hair all messy, face bright pink on the cheekbones, eyes a dark contrast against his skin. It's enthralling and so attractive that all Kendall can think about is somehow getting himself surrounded by that thick wet heat again.

James leans lower again and, carefully, slowly, licks the tip of Kendall's cock. "So what? Come then. Come for me."

James barely manages to wrap his lips around him before Kendall is coming. Hard, lightning hot flashes pulse through him, his head thrown back and a completely unnecessary and unstoppable long sound is pulled from his throat.

One of his hands winds in James' hair and the other curls lightly around his neck, holding gently. He can feel James' throat working as he swallows around him, swallowing _him_ down, and it makes the white hot flash again and again until his body is too spent to do anything but collapse.

His hands and legs fall, his muscles drained and his body weak. He winces when James pulls off of him, sitting back on his knees. Suddenly, Kendall can kind of see him through his lidded eyes; he can see the heavy rise and fall of his chest and the tent in his boxers. Kendall tries to lift himself to reach James' cock, hellbent on giving him twice as good as he gave.

James laughs lightly and swats his hands away. It falls hard as if he was filled with lead. Kendall glares up at him. "What the hell?"

"You've been staring blankly at me for ten minutes."

"Was not."

"Were too. I'm pretty sure you were asleep."

Embarrassment flashes through him so quickly, he's nearly out of breath from it. "Shut up. I wasn't."

"You were." James reaches around, finds his t-shirt, and puts it back on. Kendall tries to ignore the disappointment at seeing James' chest covered.

"Well, I'm awake now."

Goddamn him. Kendall yawns.

James laughs. He tosses his head back to do it, letting the loud and happy sound fill the space. Kendall is getting really sick of the various types of heat his body seems to produce when James is around.

"Let's call it a raincheck. Don't really want you to fall asleep with my dick in your mouth."

 _James pre-blowjob would never have said that_ , Kendall thinks. He adds it to the ever-growing list of things he finds intriguing about the chef.

"You want me to go?" Kendall regrets asking instantly.

James' face softens and Kendall hardens his to make up the difference. "You can stay over if you want. I just think you should get some sleep."

Kendall is _not_ tired.

He yawns again. "Damn it!" He throws his hands up, sitting up on the couch. "It's psychosomatic!"

James laughs again. This time, Kendall feels his lips twitch a little, too.

"Fuck off." Kendall mutters as he reaches around and finds his t-shirt, shimmying into it. He's half-tempted to stay over like James suggested; that makes him get dressed faster.

James settles himself on the couch, tossing Kendall his jeans and shoes, one at a time. Kendall catches them and stands up, dressing quickly.

"So…" He says, not really sure what to say. He feels kind of like an asshole, pouncing on James, getting his own rocks off, and then doing nothing to help the still obvious problem James has.

But now that he's not fighting it, he _can_ feel how tired he is. The adrenaline of the night, the workday, the fucking phenomenal orgasm-all the energy he normally carries has seeped away. The idea of sleeping is more appealing than anything else.

"See you around?" James asks.

It's a cop-out. Kendall can see it for what it is. James' hopeful expression, hands tightly folded together in his lap, faux-casual tone-James is giving him the option to say sure, see ya, and then never step foot into the restaurant again.

It makes him want to take the out less, because he can see how much James wants him to stay. Or at least see him again.

"I'll stop by." He says. James raises an eyebrow. "Sometime this week?"

James smiles. It's not the shy one he usually sports or the lecherous one he had a little while ago, but just...a smile. Kendall doesn't think; he just returns it.

He finishes putting on his shoes, straightening and then glancing between James and the door. Should he just leave? Say goodbye? Kiss goodbye? What?

James' nice smile turns back to the grin he's more used to. "I'll see you later."

He lifts a hand, two fingers out in a quasi-peace sign while his other fingers fold down. It's incredibly dorky. Kendall, God help him, mimics the motion and then leaves, closing the door quietly behind him.

When he makes it down the stairs and through the restaurant, he can hear footsteps on the stairs behind him. James probably realized he'd need to actually lock up behind Kendall.

Like the chicken shit he is, Kendall moves quicker and slides out the door. He starts his way across the street before James can reach him.

The icy air helps wake him up but does nothing to clear his head.

James might be the death of him.

* * *

 **Done! So, Kames have had their 'date.' Or non-date as Kendall would call it. :P**

 **I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter, as well as if you happened to have a favorite part/moment!**

 **Again, I hope you all enjoyed! The next chapter will contain the aftermath of the 'date' and will be up later in the week!**

 **Until then!**

 **-Epically Obsessed**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hello again everyone! New chapter alert!**

 **Before we get started, I would like to thank everyone that read last chapter. I would also like to give a huge thank you to winterschild11, Guest, Side1ways, and RainbowDiamonds for reviewing!**

 **I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

The day after their movie night, James looks for Kendall every time the bell on the door rings.

That's not necessarily unusual-he spent a good portion of last week doing that, waiting for Kendall. What's unusual is that not seeing him isn't a disappointment. It's not him realizing that Kendall doesn't give a shit. It's him realizing that Kendall's not here _yet_.

The distinction is astronomically important.

James heads back to the kitchen. It's a slow day and he'd normally be bummed about that, but right now, he's having a hard time being bummed about anything.

Having the hottest guy he'd ever seen splayed across his couch really did wonders for his mood.

James can barely stop himself from whistling as he works on a pie. It won't be half as good as Kendall's, but Brooke's rarely has desserts all done up. He really should take a page out of Griffin's book and hire a baker. Kendall's presence, despite highly uplifting James' personal sex life, has done a number on the town. He thinks everyone might have a sweet tooth now.

Despite trying to reign in his good mood, Dak stares at him blatantly and with an astonished look on his face all morning.

By the time James is rolling out dough for the pie, his friend and employee decides he can't take it anymore. Dak slams a spoon down, splattering sauce on the wall and counter.

"Gotta clean that up, man." James says, barely taking his eyes off the dough. Kendall would absolutely laugh at him. He's following some handwritten recipe, for God's sake.

Dak lets out a strangled huff. "Are you kidding me?"

"What?" James asks as he frowns at the recipe. It says four tablespoons of baking powder. Surely that's a mistake. This is the filling.

"What is going on with you?"

Jame finally glances up. "Nothing's going on with me."

"You've been MIA for, like, days. Carlos hasn't seen you at the bar. You haven't left the house since the night you went to the bar, _alone_ , I might add, as if you couldn't have asked me or Stephanie or anyone."

James fidgets. "I just...didn't think about it."

"You never do." Dak sighs. "Is this about Kyle?"

James blinks. "What? No!"

"Is it...is something going on with the business?"

"Nothing unusual."

Dak frowns. "Then what is it? Nothing's changed and-"

James watches as something lights underneath Dak's skin and he narrows his eyes. "That new guy. That customer that came in the other day, the one you went and sat with. That was weird. Is that what this is about?"

"No." But it didn't sound half as forceful or true as the others.

Dak snaps his fingers. "Who is that guy?"

"He's no one!" James turns his focus back to the dough. He rolls it on the table and groans when the texture seems off. "I've fucked up this pie."

"You always fuck up the pie." Dak says automatically. He grabs the spoon he threw earlier and stirs the sauce bubbling on the stove. "Who the hell is that guy, Jay?"

"He's just Griffin's new pastry chef."

"He's _Griffin's_ pastry chef?" And this time, James almost doesn't blame Dak for the incredulous expression.

"Yeah, he's Griffin's pastry chef. We've met a few times. We're...friendly."

If James focuses hard enough, he can still feel the weight of Kendall's body beneath his. Friendly is oversimplifying it.

"Are you guys, like, dating?"

That's definitely too far the other end.

He tastes the panic, a lot like the kind he had in his throat when Kyle wanted to move in together. The only thing missing is the complete lack of disinterest.

"No." James forces out. "We're just...friendly."

"Friendly." Dak rolls his eyes. "Sure."

"What?" He can feel the panic start to recede but it leaves him feeling a bit raw. He rushes to cover it with a different feeling, and the first one he manages to grasp at is anger. "What, I can't be friendly?"

"Of course you can." Dak replies. "Are you, like, trying to get dirt on Griffin or something?"

Yes, actually. But only kind of and accidentally.

"No."

"And you're not dating him? So…"

"Just because I'm gay and single doesn't mean I can't have a male friend! Being gay and single doesn't mean I have to hook up with every other gay and single guy! You don't see Carlos and I at each other."

Dak drops the spoon again. "Jesus, man, yeah. I didn't mean it like that."

James knows that. He lets his hackles raise higher instead of giving in to the inevitable decline of guilt and embarrassment. "Not everything I do and everyone I speak to has to have some greater meaning. Romantically or business-wise. I'm just-"

"Being friendly." Dak says for him. "I got it."

"Okay." James huffs and puts the dough on the pie pan. It cracks in the middle and he eases the pieces of crust back together. "I'm just saying."

"I gotcha, Boss Man."

They work in quiet for a while until too much guilt creeps inside his chest.

"Maybe we could all get together. Carlos' birthday is coming up. We could throw him a small party or something? Just the crew?" The crew being their few friends and significant others, accumulated over the last two decades of living in a small town.

Dak looks up from the pasta he's boiling "Yeah, that sounds good, man."

"Good." He's relieved. Now that he's calmed a bit and Dak's mentioned it, it has been quite a while since he actually spent any real time with his friends.

"Did you hear about Carlos' date?"

James almost drops the sugar he's holding. " _Our_ Carlos went on a date? Are you kidding me?"

"Nope." Dak laughs. "Lucy set him up. Apparently, one of her friends is cute and he finally decided to give into her pestering."

Lucy works at their local auto shop and is one of the funniest, pushiest people James has ever met. He almost feels bad for the guy, whoever he is, if he was on the receiving end of her matchmaking. James had been there one too many times.

"How did it go?"

Dak whistles. "Well, Carlos said the guy went so quiet thinking at one point that when he finally did speak, Carlos was so surprised he almost pissed himself."

James laughs. "Oh, man, that's rough."

"Yeah, definitely." Dak agrees. "But Carlos thought he was nice. Apparently, there's hope for a date two."

"Well, Carlos always did like a challenge."

"You say that like you don't get bored of everything and everyone."

James rolled his eyes. "Hand me one of those wooden spoons." Dak tossed it. " _You_ say _that_ as if I don't own the same restaurant I spent my whole life in. I don't get bored of everything. I didn't get bored of _you_."

Dak puts a hand over his heart. "You say such sweet things."

They both laugh and James forgets why he was so angry earlier. He had a hot guy on his couch and his friends in his kitchen and he's doing well.

So what if he perks a little every time the door opens, that's his own business.

XxX

The pie turns out borderline mediocre. It's on the cusp of being pretty good but misses it by half a scoop of sugar, he thinks.

He saves a piece of pie, wrapping it in plastic wrap and shoving it into the fridge. If Kendall stops by, he'll have him taste it and tell him for sure.

James grabs a tray of sandwiches he'd put together and goes to the booth in the corner at the front of the restaurant.

Dak and Stephanie are already there, speaking quietly to themselves. When he sets the tray down, both of their heads snap up.

"Boss Man!" Stephanie slaps her palms on the table before reaching for a sandwich. "Thanks!"

"Sure." He says, sliding into the empty side of the booth. He hadn't really planned on keeping them past close, but they'd both mentioned they were hungry and James still felt guilty for snapping at Dak and being so out of it the last few days.

He grabs his own sandwich and takes a bite. His mom's chicken salad recipe might be one of his favorites. It rarely gets ordered, but when he has the opportunity to break it out, he always tastes home a little more clearly.

Dak eats two before he leans forward, chin on his fist. "So, James."

"So, James." Stephanie parrots.

James cautiously sets his sandwich down. "Yes?"

"We're just curious." Stephanie says, setting her own half finished sandwich on the tray. She wipes her hands on a napkin and looks on the verge of laughing.

"About what?" James asks as he sits back.

Dak and Stephanie exchange a grin. "Well," Stephanie continues, "Dak was telling me that you've spent some... _time_ , with that cute new baker that Griffin hired."

James flushes. "How do you know he's cute?"

Dak bursts into a chuckle while Stephanie struggles to keep a straight face. "He came in the other day, ordered a burger."

James wants to slam his head on the table. "Oh, right."

"Oh, right." Dak mimics, laughing again.

"Shut up." James jabs a finger at them. "I didn't say he was cute!"

"You kind of did."

"I will fire you both." He threatens.

The threat doesn't do any damage. Stephanie rolls her eyes. "Sure you will."

"Tell us about it." Dak says. "We're off duty. This is friend talk."

And, true, the place has been closed for thirty minutes and he does kind of owe it to them. Reaffirm their friendship after a few weeks of him being MIA.

But, still. There's nothing to tell.

"I don't know anything." James says. He grabs his food again and takes another bite. He chews it slowly but they just silently wait for him to swallow. "I don't!"

"So you haven't been hanging out with him?" Stephanie asks.

James takes another bite of his sandwich.

"Oh, come on!" Dak whines out.

James groans. "Ugh, _fine_. We have-on occasion!-hung out."

Stephanie claps her hands together. "Ooh. Do you like him?"

Dak drops his sandwich. "Oh, no. We're not allowed to ask him that."

"Why?" Stephanie furrows her brows.

"He ranted at me. He thinks I was being homophobic."

James winces, guilt poking at him again. "Well, no. I just...don't like the idea that I can only hang out with guys if I'm interested in them."

Stephanie nods. "Plus, we don't even know if Kendall is gay."

James' face _burns_. He's got a pretty good idea.

"That's a good point, Steph-" Dak cuts off when he glances at James. His eyes widen and he thrusts a finger in the air, pointing accusingly at him. "Hey! What's that blush for?"

"Blush? You're blushing! Do you know if-"

Stephanie doesn't get to finish as the door creaks open and the bell rings an arrival. All three heads swivel towards the door.

"Kendall!" James shrieks the name out at such an awkward, high volume that both his friends momentarily tear their gaze from the incomer to gape at him instead. But then their heads swivel back and James would really much rather slide to the floor and crawl out than deal with whatever is about to happen.

At his outburst, Kendall stops in his tracks. His body freezes, one hand curled around the edge of the door. He looks between them, letting his gaze settle on James.

"James." Kendall nods his head, letting the door drop from his hand and slam behind him. James jumps when the bang resonates through the restaurant.

"Hi!" Stephanie interjects, slapping at Dak to get him to leave the booth so she can slide past him. She moves quickly, like a little pixie flying through the small space until she's half a foot away from Kendall, damn near bouncing where she stands. "I'm Stephanie!"

Kendall regards her. "We've met."

She's not deterred. "Not in quite the right context. That was Stephanie, the waitress. This is Stephanie, the friend."

"Of who?" But even as he asks, Kendall is sliding another glance towards James.

Stephanie nudges Dak, who jolts and shoots his hand out. "Dak. Friend and cook."

Kendall's face pinches, but he shakes Dak's hand. James looks for any signs of annoyance or budding hatred in his expression, but outside of general discomfort, Kendall doesn't seem upset.

At least, James really hopes he's not upset.

"I'm Kendall." He says, offering to shake Stephanie's hand next. She jumps a little, face erupting in a grin.

"And how do you know our James?" Dak asks, crossing his arms and leaning back. It exposes James a little more clearly to the conversation, making a circle, and he scrambles to stand when he realizes he's the only one still sitting.

"Just a friend-"

"The spy."

They both answer at the same time. Kendall laughs.

Dak and Stephanie look between them, waiting for an explanation. Neither James nor Kendall offer one.

After a minute of silence, they both jolt as if pinched. "We should get going!"

"Yeah." Stephanie dives towards the booth, grabbing her jacket and purse. "Going to go...sleep, or something."

"Yeah, you know us. _So_ tired." Dak adds.

James blinks at them.

"See you tomorrow, Boss Man. Great to see you, Kendall."

Kendall nods at them, stepping aside when they start to rush at the door.

They're gone before James remembers to say goodbye.

When the door closes behind them, Kendall takes a step towards James. "Hey."

"Hey." James' shoulders drop a little, the tension easing out of his muscles. "Why are you here?"

Kendall's eyes shoot up to his forehead. "I can leave."

"No!" He clears his throat. "I just meant, I wasn't expecting you."

Kendall doesn't say anything. James scratches at a sore spot behind his ear.

"I...do you want a sandwich? We were just eating." He gestures towards the booth.

Kendall shrugs and slides in, grabbing one of the sandwiches. He takes a bite and a small, almost imperceptible sigh falls from his mouth. James' chest feels fuller.

"This is good." He says around his second bite.

Jame sits back down, across from Kendall. He picks up his water, sipping from it.

"How was work?" James asks as he props his elbow on the table, leaning his chin on his fist.

Kendall swallows. "Fine." He grumbles, looking down at the table.

"What?" James asks, cocking his head.

Kendall shrugs. "Griffin's just an asshole. I don't like working for him."

"You're not." James says. Kendall raises an eyebrow and he backtracks. "I mean, you are. But also, you're working for me."

"Ah, as your spy."

"Exactly." James grins. "And, of course, the baking lessons."

"We just made brownies." Kendall points out.

James shrugs. "They were really good."

Kendall leans forward across the table, smirking. "Not my favorite part of the evening."

James' face burns and his voice sounds a little like he's gargling asphalt, but he manages to get out, "Me too."

Kendall's answering grin is bright enough that James is okay with how choked up he sounded.

"Oh!" James snaps his fingers, sitting straighter. "I made a pie!"

Kendall's lips purse. He stares, quietly, for a second before shaking his head. "Okay."

"Will you tell me what I did wrong?"

Kendall brows furrow. "Did you do something wrong?"

"Maybe?" James shrugs. "I'm not a very good baker. The pie's fine but…"

Kendall leans backwards, folding his hands together behind his head. "Nothing like my desserts."

James laughs. "Yes, exactly."

Kendall shakes his head again, a small smile playing at his lips. "Okay. Bring me this second-class pie."

James grins and extracts himself from the booth, darting to the kitchen. He hesitates with the pie, looking at the microwave, before deciding to just let Kendall taste it cold. He doesn't want to be scolded a second time in as many days about microwaving desserts.

He grabs a second glass of water and carries both dishes back to the booth, carefully setting both in front of Kendall.

Kendall grabs the water and takes a long pull, and James watches the way Kendall's throat works around the swallow with acute fascination.

"Here." His own throat feels dry and he sits down quickly. "Try this."

Kendall glances at the pie, pinching the crust. It crumbles between the pads of his fingers and he raises his hand, licking the crumbs.

He picks up the fork, severing off a large chunk of the pie. His mouth closes around it and he chews slowly, head cocked.

James likes him like this. He holds himself differently, the way he did when he was in the kitchen the other night baking brownies. It's not more confident, necessarily; Kendall doesn't lack confidence in any area of his life, James was pretty sure. But it was like he wasn't holding himself up on purpose-he was just existing, pure and simple, when his mind was preoccupied with the food.

"You really do love it, don't you?" James is as surprised by the question as he is by the way Kendall answers it almost immediately. "Baking."

"Yes." He says. "I've been doing it a long time."

"Since you were seventeen." James says.

Kendall lifts his fork in a mock salute and takes another bite.

James feels questions underneath his skin like an itch. "Who taught you?"

His face hardens, just a little. "I taught myself."

"That's a young age to teach yourself." James comments.

Kendall shrugs. "I liked baking. And a lot of places let you work overnights if you're the baker. It was...convenient."

"Convenient?"

"For the life I wanted. Want. Whatever."

"Right." James watches as Kendall takes the last bite of pie.

He's eaten the whole thing and not commented once and James is pretty sure he's going to really lay into him.

He wants to hear Kendall talk in that way he did the other night, when he was showing him how to make those brownies. The passion he keeps beneath the surface of his words is enticing and James sways with an effort to keep his anticipation quiet.

"This is good." Kendall says. James blinks at him, disbelieving, until Kendall cracks a smile. "It's not the best, but it's better than I thought it would be."

James almost laughs. He catches it in his throat and shoots out a huff and glare instead "Gee, thanks."

Kendall remains unbothered. "Just saying."

"Well, Teach. Give me some advice." James is half a second away from grinning.

Kendall looks like he might be, too. "Why did you bake this?"

"Had extra time." James shrugs. "Thought you could give me some pointers."

"Did you follow a recipe?"

"Sort of. Yes."

"Hmm." He scrapes the fork against the plate before setting it down. "You'll get better. Your instincts told you this wasn't perfect and eventually, they'll help you narrow down why."

"But you won't tell me." James surmises.

Kendall winks. "What's the fun in that?"

James thinks just about anything would be fun with Kendall.

The other man looks at his watch and sighs. "I've got to go. I'm working early tomorrow because Griffin's opening earlier now."

"He's _extended_ the hours?" James swallows. "You're supposed to be getting me dirt."

"Patience." Kendall says. "A good spy takes his time."

"Sure, sure." Disappointment, heavy like lead, sits in his stomach. His restaurant is screwed if Griffin can afford to be extending his hours already. "Will you stop by again?"

Kendall leans closer, tongue flickering out of his mouth to swipe across his bottom lip. "Do you want me to?"

"Yes." James answers much too quickly.

Kendall's eyes drop down to James' mouth and he holds his gaze there until he stands. "Okay, then."

"Okay, then." James stands too, and walks Kendall to the door. He gives himself permission to follow the lines of Kendall's lean muscles down his back and legs before darting his eyes back up when Kendall turns around.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette, the long stick a dull white with a dark brown base. He toys with it, using his fingers to pull it between the digits. James' vision narrows when he follows the cigarette up as it's gently placed between his lips.

James wrenches the door open, ignoring the bell.

Kendall laughs, grabbing the cigarette as his head falls back, and James is equally trapped between pulling him back in by his hair or shoving him out of the door and locking it.

He was going to impulse decide when Kendall takes a step backwards, then another. He backs out onto the sidewalk and pulls out his lighter, balancing the cigarette between his lips against as he lights it.

James watches until Kendall spins around, then keeps watching until he's far out of sight.

James leans his forehead against the edge of the door. He's so, so far gone.

* * *

 **Done! So, we got more Kames interaction this chapter! It also seems that Dak and Stephanie have caught on to James' feelings for Kendall.**

 **I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter, as well as if you happened to have a favorite part/moment!**

 **Again, I hope you all enjoyed! The next chapter will be up soon! And by soon, I mean sometime this weekend at the latest. :P**

 **Until then!**

 **-Epically Obsessed**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hello again everyone! So, I was originally going to wait until around the weekend to post, but I had the urge to do it now, so...here we are! :P**

 **Before we go any further, I would like to thank everyone that read last chapter! I would also like to give a huge thank you to winterschild11, Guest, Side1ways, and RainbowDiamonds for reviewing!**

 **I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

The next morning, Kendall wakes up in such a good mood that he stops by the front office to tell Martha good morning.

He isn't sure why he does it, why he even thought of it, but the receptionist's face lights up and she even gives him a cup of coffee from the employee break room. It's ten times better than the complimentary instant shit in his room and he ends up thanking her quite genuinely and profusely.

He walks to work, nodding to the people he passes on the street. It's not so much that Kendall is an antisocial asshole, but he never really cared enough to greet people in the towns he's been in before.

And he's not dumb enough to think it's just because he's getting laid and occasionally having some pretty okay conversation. He might be a drifter, but Kendall _has_ gotten laid and had a social life in other towns he's passed through. It's not entirely uncommon for him to speak to other people. It's just that he doesn't usually care if he talks to them. And it doesn't usually change his mood at all.

He just thinks that maybe Poplar isn't the worst.

He hums to the tune of an old AC/DC songs while he mixes and pours and sifts. He even says hi to the other employees when they start coming in, surprising a few of them enough that they just blink instead of greeting him back.

Kendall finishes his regular morning workload on time, if not a little early. He has muffins and brownies and a few breads done right when they're ready to open.

He toys with the idea of taking an extra long break since he's done but decides that he has a bit too much energy for that. He was sure if he took a break he'd end up back at Brooke's, and he'd end up flirting or confessing something or pushing James against a wall-

Kendall shakes his head. He does _not_ need to entertain those ideas right now, at work.

But after work...well, Kendall still owes James a thorough lavishing. Preferably with his tongue while he draws profanity from James' mouth. That's one of Kendall's favorite things about the mouth on his favorite chef.

"Hey, jackass." A snapping of fingers in front of his face breaks Kendall's concentration and he curses, jumping.

He's spilled a little of the syrupy frosting he's working on, the substance pooling on his workspace. He looks up, glaring at his boss.

Griffin is truly an atrocious man. Kendall grits his teeth and reminds himself that the pay is pretty good.

"Where are the pumpkin breads I asked for?" Griffin demands.

Kendall counts to five in his head. "There were no pumpkins here." He says slowly.

Griffin furrows his brow. His confusion presses against the aggression and it's so unappealing that Kendall has a very vivid fantasy of quitting.

"I can't make any damn pumpkin bread without pumpkin, Griffin." He pushes the words out from his clenched jaw. "I made banana and apple breads instead."

"I didn't ask you to make those!" Griffin flattens his palms on the table, crowding into Kendall's space. Kendall drops his hands to his pocket to hide his fists. "I wanted pumpkin bread."

"Should've bought some fucking pumpkins, then."

Griffin stares at him before scoffing and turning on his heel, leaving the kitchen while muttering under his breath. Kendall ignores it in favor of counting again and searching for a rag to clean up the spilled almost-frosting.

"That guy," the head waiter, Tyler, sets a tray down next to Kendall's bowl, watching Griffin slip out the door, "is the worst."

"Yeah." Kendall agrees easily. "I don't know how he's actually a business owner."

Tyler laughs. Camille, another waitress, comes over as if her ears perked up the second they started shit talking.

"Oh my god, did you hear how he he even got this place?" She leans in as if she's whispering, but her voice projects clearly through the kitchen. Kendall looks around and sees everyone leaning towards them, listening.

"No." Tyler says. "How?"

"He bought up the property from one of his relatives years ago and had to get a loan from somebody in his family. No bank in their right mind would support him." Camille says. "I don't know how he's got customers supporting him."

Tyler reached over and lightly punched Kendall on the shoulder. "I can make one guess."

"That's true." Camille agrees. She shoots Kendall a smile, the shy kind that he'd gotten from too many girls in the past, and he barely withholds his wince. "We did get lucky with you."

"I won't be staying long, though." He says. He turns back to the mixture, folding in a bit of powdered sugar. "He's going to have to change if he wants to actually beat Brooke's when I leave."

"Brooke's?"

Kendall looks up at the surprised tone that Camille and Tyler parroted. Tyler grins while Camille frowns.

"Yeah." Kendall frowns. "They're, like, the main competition. Right?"

He looks between them as they exchange a glance. Camille takes pity first.

"Kind of." She shrugs. "They're pretty close by."

"And they're really good." Kendall adds.

"Yeah, sure. The food's great. But-" Tyler cuts himself off.

Kendall sets down the spoon. "But what?"

"The place has just been different, you know?" Camille interjects. "Since Brooke died and her son took over."

Kendall blinks as Camille barrels forward. "He's still a great cook and everything, but, like, come on. No one really wants to eat there but, like, my grandma or people with little kids. The place isn't exactly…"

"Atmospheric." Tyler says. "Fun to be in. Not caving in."

Cool air rushes through his veins. He feels his skin hardening to protect himself from the cold. "I liked it."

"You would." Camille laughs. "You're always traveling, on the road. It's homey, but it's also kind of a dive."

"It's really good." Kendall doesn't know why he's arguing. He thought the same thing about Brooke's every time he walked in.

"It's okay." Tyler says. "But even though Griffin's an asshole, as long as he stays away from the customers, he's probably not going to lose to Brooke's. It's still the better choice."

Kendall couldn't even fathom how much he disagreed.

""Plus," Camille adds, "the guy that owns the place is such an ass."

Kendall nearly jumps, he's so surprised. "James?"

Tyler cocks his head. "You know him?"

"No." Kendall says quickly. "I just...saw him there once or twice. Whatever. Didn't seem like an ass to me."

"Well, he is." Camille crosses her arms. "He always has been. Too good for everyone in this town."

"That doesn't seem...right."

Tyler jumps in. "He is, though. Did you hear about what he did to Kyle?"

"Kyle?"

"Kyle Lynn. He works down at the market. James and Kyle were dating for a while, and the guy just broke up with him. Out of the blue. Said he just didn't care."

Kendall frowns and looks at Camille for confirmation. She nods.

"Yeah, Kyle wanted them to move in together and the guy literally just 'couldn't be bothered.' Those were his exact words."

That really didn't sound like James.

But it doesn't really matter. So the guy isn't fond of his ex even before he was an ex-Kendall has definitely been there.

"Doesn't seem like a huge thing." Kendall picks up the spoon and pokes at the frosting. The consistency's off, but it doesn't seem unsalvageable.

Camille shakes her head. "It's not just that. He's just...I don't know, it's none of our business, obviously."

Kendall narrows his eyes. "What isn't?"

"It's just that he doesn't seem to care about people. We used to be friends, kind of, when he was going out with Kyle, and he hasn't even spoke to us since they broke up. And it's not because he's upset or being nice to Kyle or whatever. He just doesn't care. I don't think he ever has."

Kendall adds more powdered sugar, contemplating.

"And, yeah, sure, it's none of our business. But Kyle is our friend and I don't like what James did to him."

"It's like he just uses people until he's bored." Tyler says, straightening up and grabbing the tray he'd sat down earlier. "At least Griffin knows he's an ass."

Tyler and Camille leave Kendall alone with his frosting after that. He finishes it absently, barely remembering to put in his homemade vanilla extract in time.

He's not sure what to do with this new information he's gleaned about James. It doesn't really _matter_ -he doesn't give a shit that his coworkers don't like James; he barely likes James and he definitely doesn't like his coworkers. It rubs against the idea of James, though, and surprises him. Normally, Kendall likes surprises.

He finishes the next few tasks quickly, refusing to chit chat with any of the other employees when they come in.

He takes off his apron, tossing it on the counter. With the new early opening, Kendall has been at work for almost a full day's work. He's also finished more than he actually needs to have done in one day so he decides, even if it is an hour early, he's going to just go back to the motel. Griffin can just fucking deal.

He crosses through the restaurant, ignoring the customers sporadically placed, and the wait staff that try to wave at him. He makes it to Griffin's office, fist raised to knock on the door, when he hears voices.

He hesitates. He doesn't want to piss Griffin off more by interrupting, but he also really doesn't want to stand here and listen to whatever he's got to say. He can barely stomach Griffin's voice when he has to; listening unnecessarily seems like cruel and unusual punishment.

Groaning, Kendall gently lets his head fall against the wood of the door. He wants to slam his head into a few times. His good mood from the morning is all but non-existent, and he just wants to crawl back into the motel's bed.

" _They're going to find out."_ Kendall hears a hushed voice from behind the door, his head close enough to pick up the words now. " _You can't seriously expect the lie to last."_

Kendall frowns. He turns his head, pressing his ear against the wood.

" _No one will find out unless one of my own blabs. And everyone here loves me."_ Griffin says.

" _Sure."_ Kendall nearly laughs at the sarcasm and disbelief in the other voice. It sounds a bit like Logan, the head chef. " _Except that maybe anyone could find out. You have a lot of employees."_

" _I don't want to talk about it, it's not a big deal."_

" _Well, no, but it-"_

" _Some of the food is frozen. Who cares?"_

" _Griffin, basically everything-"_

" _Let me ask you. Do I pay you to ask questions? To stir trouble? Or do I fucking pay you to cook?"_

" _Griffin-"_

" _What do I pay you for, Logan?"_

There's silence for a second. Kendall strains against the door to hear.

" _To cook."_

" _Good. Now, go do that before I find somebody else."_

Kendall jumps away from the door when the handle starts to creak, running his hands through his hair. He turns around and tries to wipe the guilty expression off his face when Logan comes out of the office.

Logan looks surprised to see him; Kendall tries to copy that.

"Hey." Kendall nods.

"Hey." Logan nods back, giving a small smile as he passes him, heading towards the kitchen. Kendall takes a deep breath and knocks on the door.

"What the hell is it?" Griffin's voice gets louder as Kendall opens the door, not quite stepping into the office, but waiting just outside of it.

"I'm done for the day." He says. "Thought I'd let you know."

Griffin frowns, looking around for a clock. "It's early."

"Got here early." Kendall replies. "And finished early."

Griffin opens his mouth, but then rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Don't be late tomorrow."

Kendall stops himself from glaring outright.

"See you tomorrow, Griffin." He says from between gritted teeth.

Kendall storms out of the restaurant, half a second away from quitting. His mood has gone _sour_ and he hates his boss and he hates his coworkers and he hates this town. He never should have invested any amount time in it.

He hesitates outside, feet angling towards Brooke's. Then he remembered what Camille was saying and he remembers that he doesn't want to deal with shit like that, he doesn't want to deal with _people_ , and he turns on his heel to stomp towards the Sunnyside Motel.

He makes it to the motel in record time, locking the door behind him and throwing himself on the bed.

God, he feels dumb.

He feels dumb and he feels angry and he's not sure why he's feeling either of those things.

He rolls over on his stomach, closing his eyes, and decides to wait the bad mood out.

He falls asleep before that happens.

XxX

Kendall jolts awake a few hours later.

He blinks, heart pounding in his chest, and looks down at his watch; it's seven-thirty now and he groans, rubbing his hand over his face.

He rolls over, stretching against the mattress. His whole body aches, reprimanding him for sleeping so long.

His stomach growls and he climbs out of bed, looking around the motel room. He probably has some snacks, a few chip bags laying around from the vending machine, but the idea of eating junk curls in his stomach.

Kendall's still dressed, shoes still on and everything, from work. He grabs his jacket and keys and slips out of the motel room.

He only deliberates for half a second before making his way towards Brooke's.

His stomach flips when he pushes through the door, something anxious flooding through him. He regrets coming in as soon as he sees how empty it is.

Stephanie jumps up from her perch on the stool and waves to him. "Kendall!" She says loudly, head angled a bit away from him. "Hi!"

"Hey." He frowns, walking across the room to slide into the booth he'd been in the first time he came. It's tucked in the corner and he doesn't wait to see where she'd put him. "Can I see the menu?"

"Oh! Sure." She scrambles behind the counter before coming around to him, setting it down.

"Coffee." He tells her without lifting his eyes from scanning the menu. "And I'll have a patty melt, please."

He hands the menu back to her and she nods, not writing anything down. "Anything else?"

"Nope." He offers her a small smile when he realizes he's basically glaring, trying to soften his expression. There are needles beneath his skin, setting him on edge.

He scoots himself until he's in the farthest part of the booth away from everyone else. There's only one other table occupied and from the way Stephanie keeps going over and talking to them, brushing the kids' hair out of their faces, he's assuming they're family.

He shouldn't have come here. His head pounds, a steady ache that he thinks must have developed because of his nap. He doesn't actually want to see James.

His stomach flips at the thought of it.

Stephanie drops off his coffee and a glass of water. He thanks her and tries his best not to sound sarcastic.

Kendall places his head in his hands. He hates this town. He's been here too long already and he shouldn't be giving a shit about the people here-which he _doesn't_ , not really, but kind of.

He can still hear Camille and Tyler's voices in his head, the way they were both so disdainful of James. Kendall hadn't thought anyone could be. And it wasn't that he cared about their opinion or anything, it was just…

He doesn't really know James at all. And he wasn't trying to get to know him so it didn't matter. He just kind of thought he _did_ know James, was all.

He groans and cuts himself off, clamping his lips together, when Stephanie sets the plate on the table.

"You okay?" She asks, cocking her head to the side.

She's a pretty girl and she seems nice. Kendall thought she was probably a sweet person. He wonders what other people in town think, though. The ones that actually know her.

"I'm fine." He says, upending his napkin to his lap. "Thanks."

"Sure." She says, still frowning, before someone at the other table calls for her and she darts away.

He takes a bite of his patty melt and sighs. It is, of course, delicious. Kendall thinks that maybe his fondness for James-if he can call it that, he's not sure that's quite the right word for it-is his cooking. He really is a great cook.

Maybe he'd teach Kendall how to make one of these sandwiches before he leaves. It's not often that Kendall's motel rooms have a kitchenette, but sometimes they do and, usually, he can find baking gigs that let him stay overnight and he'd have access to a kitchen then. It'd be good to be able to make something on his own, besides cakes and pastries.

He's halfway through the melt when he feels James come up to the booth.

Goosebumps break out across his skin and his throat closes. He focuses hard, swallowing the bite in his mouth, but its hard and slow. He waits until James slides into the booth across from him before he looks up.

James looks _good_.

He usually does, that was the main thing that Kendall noticed about him at first. He knows that since they pretty much make out every time they see each other, the occasional baking days notwithstanding, his body has gotten accustomed to a particular physiological reaction to James' presence. His skin's hot and his lips feel dry and he would much rather be pressed up against the cook than eat any on his food.

James smiles at him and Kendall feels the tension in his body start drain.

"So," James says, a teasing grin playing at his lips as he leans across the table. "Are you here with dirt for me?"

Kendall feels ice water drench his body. The cold air hits him and his hair freezes, his skin puckering up from the ice. He knows no one else can tell, but he feels soaked to the bone.

" _It's just that he doesn't seem to care about people."_

" _He just uses people."_

His coworkers' voices ring in his head. Kendall's face hardens and he clenches his jaw, counting to five until he can manage to unclench it.

"What's happening?" James asks, brows furrowing together. "Why are you glaring at me?"

"I'm not." Kendall snaps, glaring harder.

"Um, yeah, you are." James looks around as if there's anyone around that can help explain Kendall's sudden drop in mood to him. "I don't know why."

"Of course you don't." Kendall scoffs. "Doesn't really matter to you, does it?"

"I...what?"

"Whatever?" Kendall throws his napkin on the table and goes to leave. James' hand snaps out and wraps around Kendall's wrist, holding him there.

"Wait, Kendall, I…" James drops his hold on him. "I don't know what's going on."

"It's nothing." Kendall pulls back his hand. He crosses his arms but doesn't leave the booth. "I'm just not sure how _useful_ I'll be."

James still looks as confused as he did a second ago, but now there's anger there, too. His eyes are narrowing and his lips are pursed in a thin line.

 _Good,_ Kendall thinks. _Get mad._

Then at least he won't be the only one.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about." James says. "But apparently, I've offended you, and that wasn't my intention."

"Of course not." Kendall's bones ache. He wants James to not be looking at him. He wants a drink.

"Why are you getting so mad?"

"I am _not_ mad!" Kendall pushes out of the booth and stands above it, glowering down at James.

"Is this about the other night?"

Kendall doesn't even know which night he could be referring to. He shouldn't have spent so much time with James, shouldn't have spent enough nights to not know what night is being referred to; shouldn't have _liked_ the guy, at all, not even a little bit.

"Fuck off." Kendall rolls his eyes. "The food is frozen, so there's your news."

"What?"

"The fucking food! At Griffin's. It's frozen, so fuck them and also fuck you, goodbye."

He turns and crosses the room. James calls after him and Kendall ignores him, letting the door slam behind him.

He manages to get halfway across the street before he realizes what a dumbass he'd been.

He toys with the idea of going back to the restaurant and apologizing.

He takes a left and heads to the bar instead.

* * *

 **Done! So, it seems things went downhill for Kames pretty quickly.**

 **I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter, as well as if you happened to have a favorite part/moment!**

 **Again, I hoped you all enjoyed the chapter! Okay, so this time the next chapter really will be up sometime this weekend! :P**

 **Until then!**

 **-Epically Obsessed**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hello again everyone! :D**

 **Before we get into the new chapter, I would like to thank everyone that read last chapter! I would also like to give a huge thank you to winterschild11, Guest, Side1ways, and RainbowDiamonds for reviewing!**

 **I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

James isn't sure what the hell Kendall was going on about or why he was so mad, but he decides a half an hour after he stormed out that it doesn't matter. Kendall was clearly going through something and even though it seemed to have a lot to do with James, it also seemed to have nothing to do with James.

This seems like something he should just stay clear of.

Kendall will either be back or he won't; James doesn't have any control over that.

He reminds himself of this fact again when, ten to nine, he still hasn't come back.

"You worried about your drama king?" Dak props his hands on the broom, nodding towards the door.

James rolls his eyes. "No, actually. It doesn't really matter."

"It kind of matters." He disagrees. "You like him."

Heat flares in his gut. "No, I don't."

Dak throws his hands up then dives to catch the broom before it clatters to the floor. "You do, too! I don't know why you're being like this-"

"Like what?" He meant it to come out sharp, as a warning. Instead, it was a question.

Dak quirks an eyebrow. "Employee or friend?"

"Friend." He concedes.

"You're pretending like you don't care about him and you expect us to believe you because you normally don't care." He says.

James furrowed his brow. "I'm not doing that."

"You are, though." Dak shakes his head then sighs. "You're telling me you never felt this way about Kyle? Ever?"

Like usual, guilt replaces whatever he was feeling before as soon as Kyle's name is mentioned. He really, really wanted to care about Kyle.

"That's different."

"What about Jake? Or Luke?" All of his exes that had faced similar fates as Kyle.

James chews on his bottom lip. "This isn't like them. Kendall and I aren't...dating. We're not anything."

Dak snorts. "You're clearly something." He says. "I just don't know exactly what."

James thinks that's probably a common confusion.

"Are you really not going to admit to liking him?"

"It's just not like that." He explains. "I'm not into that. You know that about me."

Dak sighs and goes back to sweeping. While Stephanie starts wiping down the tables, James goes to finish cleaning the kitchen, and together, they all get the place ready for the morning.

Music plays from the stereo behind the counter, Stephanie's choice today, but other than that the team moves in silence. It's effortless and common, the same mundane work they do every day.

James can't stop thinking about Kendall.

Stephanie and Dak invite him to the bar and, as usual, he declines. James reminds them that they should really plan what they're doing for Carlos' birthday and the friends part when the restaurant is ready to close at half past nine.

He's about to lock the door when, through the window, James sees someone walking in the middle of the street.

He cracks the door open just a little bit, narrowing his eyes in the dark to focus on the long-legged person.

With a start, James realizes he recognizes the stumbling guy.

"Kendall?" He calls, slipping out of the door frame and crossing to the edge of the sidewalk.

Kendall's head snaps up. He grins, wide and easily. He throws his arms out and croons James' name.

He's a few feet away, but James thinks he can practically smell the booze off of him from there.

"You're drunk." James says slowly, furrowing his eyebrows. His face erupts in wrinkles as he watches Kendall try to walk towards him, legs crossing and his body swaying from one side to the other.

"No." Kendall says when he reaches him. His arms fly up and wrap around James' shoulders. He's still smiling.

James would be enthralled if he wasn't so concerned.

"What are you doing?" He puts one arm around Kendall's waist by instinct, trying to steady him.

Kendall's head lolls to the side as he considers. "Oh! Yes. I was walking home."

"Home?" James' heart hammers.

"The motel." Kendall corrects himself, but the words seem to get stuck on his tongue. "Going from bar to motel."

"Oh…" James deflates a little. "Well, let me walk you." He says as he turns them towards the diner. "I'll just get my keys."

"No." Kendall tries to shove away from him and James holds harder. "No, no, no."

"Come on, man." James shoves a little and they both get through the door in one piece. The bell goes off as the door slams behind them. "I can't in good conscience let you walk through the streets like this."

"Like what?" Kendall asks. He's no longer clinging to James, but he doesn't look any stronger either; he seems completely trashed.

"Kendall, you're so drunk." James sets him on a stool and then shoots his arm out to catch him when he starts sliding off. "Jeez, why didn't Carlos cut you off?"

"Carlos! The bartender, right?" Kendall nods to himself as if answering his own question. "He _did_ , but he can't cut off other people!"

"You took other people's drinks?"

"No!" Kendall slaps his hand away lightly when he tries to steady him again. "They _bought them_ for me."

"Oh," and James is definitely not feeling anything warm or pleasant in his stomach.

Kendall reaches out and taps his finger against James' throat. "No, no sad. Don't like them."

"Don't care if you do." James mumbles, wishing his stomach would stop flipping.

Kendall sighs, long and heavy. James struggles to keep his expression still.

"I'm going to get you a glass of water." He says. "Stay here."

Clumsily, Kendall salutes. "Aye, aye!"

James laughs, patting Kendall on the shoulder before heading to the kitchen. He fills up a glass as quickly as he can, shaking his head to himself. A few hours ago, he was getting yelled at by his weird, hot friend, and now he's drunk as hell in his restaurant.

Once the glass is full, he contemplates grabbing some sort of food to get into Kendall's stomach to soak up the alcohol. He decides against it for now in case it just makes him sick.

He heads back to where he left Kendall, stopping short when he sees that the restaurant is empty.

"Kendall?" He calls. There's no answer.

James quickly sets the glass down and looks around, going outside and checking across the street to see if he tried to make his way home.

He's halfway to running out and checking every motel in town since he's not sure which one Kendall is staying at when he hears a loud crash coming from upstairs.

Taking two steps at a time, James rushes upstairs. His door is already open and when he gets inside, he sees Kendall sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding the biggest piece of a broken lamp in his hands.

Kendall looks up, expression wrought and grim. "I killed it."

James could laugh. He swallows it and his relief down. He closes the door behind him and goes into his own kitchen, grabbing ibuprofen and a water bottle from the fridge.

He comes back, sitting next to Kendall on the floor, and hands him the water bottle, taking the lamp out of his hands.

He gently puts the broken lamp next to the rest of the pieces and shakes out two ibuprofen tablets, handing them to Kendall. "Swallow these."

Kendall frowns then brightens, wiggling his eyebrows. "There are other things I'd rather be swallowing."

He moves closer to James. James puts a hand on his chest, barely pressing, and Kendall flops back to his side.

"Take the medicine, Kendall." He's trying really, _really_ hard not to laugh.

Kendall dutifully swallows the pills and downs half the water. Then he sets it down and sighs.

"Are you mad at me?"

"What?" James shakes his head. "No. Why?"

"I killed her." He gestures towards the lamp, frowning. "And you don't want to kiss me."

"You're drunk." James says gently as he can. "If you want to kiss me, do it sober."

"I want to kiss you now. I like kissing now."

James feels his blood rushing to his face. "I like kissing you, too. But the last time we saw each other, you were made at me. So drunk kissing until we sort that out."

"I was mean." Kendall throws himself to the ground, stretching across the carpet. His arms raise above his head and he yawns after the stretch. "I was so mean to you."

"It's okay."

"It's not! I overreacted." He struggles around the words, and James has to stop himself from smiling. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been mean to you. You're not using me."

James blinks. "Uh...no, I'm not."

"You care about people and it's none of my business _anyway_!" Kendall sits up, though it takes him a few tries. "I'm sorry I was mean."

"Dude, it's okay." James hesitates, then crosses the invisible border he created for them, placing his hand on Kendall's shoulder, squeezing gently. "We're friends."

Kendall's eyes widen and he cocks his head, a stray strand of hair falling in his face. "We are?"

James swallows. "Of course we are." He says. "So you can yell at me sometimes and I'll yell at you sometimes, and then we'll figure it out."

Kendall nods, fast. "Yeah. Okay."

He yawns again.

James wants to know more, but figures that it's not a good time. "Listen, you can stay here if you want. _Just_ to sleep." He adds when Kendall starts to grin wolfishly.

It falls to a pout immediately. James chuckles.

"Come on." He pushes himself up and holds a hand out to Kendall. Kendall takes it with both of his hands and James pulls him up. Kendall goes to the couch and throws himself onto it face down.

James goes to the closet and grabs a blanket. When he comes back to the living room, Kendall's snoring loudly. James shakes his head and drapes the blanket over his friend, retrieving the half empty water bottle and putting it on the coffee table.

Without thinking, he brushes a few stray strands of hair away from Kendall's face. When he realizes what he's doing, he pulls his hand away hard like it burned him.

"Night." He says to the unconscious body.

Kendall snores back at him.

James locks the diner's door, sweeps up the broken glass and sets a timer on his coffee pot, dresses in his pajamas, and brushes his teeth. He lies in bed and tries hard, very hard, not to think about the man lying just a few feet away in the other room.

He's thought it before and he's sure he'll think it again, but once more, James finds himself circling around one, lone thought: he's so, so screwed.

XxX

The next morning comes quickly. James feels content, a happy sleepiness heavy inside his body. Especially considering how long it took James to actually fall asleep.

He smells the coffee from the kitchen, wafting in through his cracked bedroom door.

He stretches, rolling over. He freezes when his body presses against something hard.

James slowly cracks open one eye and then the other.

There, just a few inches away from his face, lies Kendall.

Kendall's mouth is parted, his breathing coming out in short, whining huffs.

He doesn't remember Kendall coming to his room to his room or climbing into his bed. A quick glance down reassures James that they're both still dressed and therefore didn't do anything _too_ bad, which is good.

As carefully as he can, James untangles himself from Kendall's legs and the blankets, crawling out of bed.

He slips out of his bedroom. The blanket he'd left for Kendall is tangled into a ball on the floor, but at least the water bottle seems empty. Hopefully the bit of water will keep Kendall's hangover from being too bad.

He wonders when Kendall came to his room, why he did that, and if that was the reason he feels so rested. He'd shared beds with partners before-not that he was Kendall were partners, of course, but still-but usually, he just ended up annoyed having to share his space like that.

He didn't mind it was much with Kendall, even when it happened without his knowledge. He thinks he would quite like falling asleep with Kendall as much as he liked waking up to him.

James quickly pushes that thought from his head and goes to the kitchen.

He pours himself a generous cup of coffee, adding a bit of sugar and cream, and drinks the whole thing hot and fast. He pours himself a second cup and leaves it to cool while he starts breakfast.

Pancakes, he decides, will be good for Kendall's stomach. He'll use his mom's recipe, of course, the one with a splash of vanilla and just a teensy bit of brandy. They're his favorite and he thinks that Kendall will like them, with his sweet tooth.

Well, James doesn't _know_ that Kendall has a sweet tooth. It's just a hunch, since the guy is a baker, but he's pretty confident about it.

James thinks that his reaction to the pancakes will prove the hypothesis.

He finishes the batter quickly, used to making them. He worked hard when he was a kid to learn this recipe in particular, because making breakfast for his mom was an absolute must-do on any sort of holiday.

He finishes his coffee and pours the rest of the pot into his mug. He restarts a pot in case Kendall likes coffee in the morning. He doesn't know that either.

Since Kendall is still asleep and the pancake batter is chilling, James pulls out a bag of potatoes. He carefully sneaks down to the restaurants kitchen and grabs an onion and green pepper, carrying his own contraband back upstairs as quietly as he can. He chops them and throws them in the oven with a drizzle of olive oil and spices. Then he starts on the pancakes.

The coffee pot has just gurgled to a stop when he hears the unmistakable sound of his bedroom door creaking open.

His muscles stiffen immediately, but James focuses hard on not reacting. He finishes the pancakes and pulls out the hash browns from the oven, testing one of the potatoes. He tosses it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully with his mouth slightly open to alleviate the heat.

"What smells amazing and why am I dying?"

James turns around just in time to see Kendall heave himself on the doorframe, hands clenched around the molding to hold himself up.

He looks terrible. James grabs a mug and starts pouring coffee. "I made breakfast. Sit down."

Kendall complies easily, sliding into one of James' kitchen chairs.

"When did I get here?" Kendall accepts the coffee and starts drinking immediately. James turns and grabs plates and forks from the cabinets, setting them on the table.

"You showed up after close last night." James reaches into the fridge and grabs syrup and butter, setting them in the middle of the table.

"Did we get fucking plastered?" Kendall lets his head fall into his hands, wincing. "God, too loud."

James fills both their coffee cups and then starts dishing food onto the plates. "You did, but that was before you showed up. Here."

Kendall takes the plate from James. "Thanks." He mutters. "So we just…" He gestures between them with one hand, using the other to grab a fork.

James shakes his head and sits in his own chair. "No." He says quickly. "I just put you to bed on the couch."

Kendall raises an eyebrow. "I woke up in your room."

James shrugs and takes a bit of the pancakes. "Not my fault. I woke up to that as a surprise."

Kendall looks down at his plate, frowning. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but seems to change his mind, taking a bite of his pancakes.

He chews it and then lets out a low groan. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, this is good."

James tries very hard not to preen. "Thanks."

Kendall hums a _you're welcome_ from around another mouthful. He eats quickly and doesn't even bother with the syrup or butter, just eating the pancakes plain. When he finishes, he moves on to the potatoes.

James can't help but watch him. He eats his own food slowly, focused mostly on the way that Kendall looks when he eats his food.

"Stop staring at me." Kendall mutters, shoving the last of his potatoes in his mouth.

James laughs. "Sorry."

"Are not." Kendall looks up, smiling a little, before wiping it off his face and leaning back. "God, my head."

"Yeah." James nods, shrugging. "You were really drunk."

Kendall winces. "Was I an ass?"

James jokingly contemplates before shaking his head. "No, you were very nice."

Kendall rolls his eyes. "Sure."

James considers it for only half a second before asking. "Yesterday when you...when you were in the restaurant and upset-"

Kendall holds up a hand. "Can we not?"

James wants to say no, we can't not. He knew better than to push when Kendall was drunk and he meant it when he said it was okay because they were friends. He isn't upset with Kendall. But he doesn't get it. And he doesn't want to upset him that badly again.

But Kendall's looking at him, just shy of pleadingly, and James doesn't have it in him to push.

"Okay." He concedes. "But if it happens again, you have to explain."

"Deal." Kendall agrees quickly.

James finishes his breakfast. It's quiet and they're both pretending like they're not just looking at each other, but Kendall has bedhead and his shirt is all wrinkled and James likes him in his apartment. In this part of his life. It...works.

He stands up to grab the dishes when Kendall breaks the silence.

"Thanks." Kendall says, holding his coffee cup up to his mouth. "For letting me stay here. And, like, breakfast."

James smiles. He hopes it comes off as polite instead of fond. "It's nothing."

"It's not." Kendall stands up and grabs the syrup and the butter. "Breakfast is the the most important meal of the day."

He puts the syrup and butter away and James does the dishes.

And if they kiss softly without thinking about it when James walks him downstairs, needing to open the restaurant, then they'll just blame it on the niceness of the early morning.

And if James spends the rest of the day with his heart beating just in time and his smile effortlessly present, well, that probably doesn't have anything to do with Kendall anyway.

He keeps telling himself that and he thinks, maybe, if he says it enough, he'll believe it.

* * *

 **Done! So, it seems that Kames have reconciled. Well, kind of... :P**

 **I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter, as well as if you happened to have a favorite part/moment!**

 **Again, I hope you all enjoyed! I'm not quite sure when the next chapter will be up, but it will definitely be up by this weekend!**

 **Until then!**

 **-Epically Obsessed**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Hello again everyone! :D**

 **Before we get started with the new chapter, I would like to thank everyone that read last chapter! I would also like to give a huge thank you to winterschild11, Guest, Side1ways, and RainbowDiamonds for reviewing!**

 **I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

Kendall makes it to work only thirty minutes late, which he considers to be a huge win since he had to go home and wash the stink of binge drinking off of him before hightailing it back to the strip of restaurants.

He sneaks in through the back door he found that first day and grabs his apron, tying it around his waist.

Griffin storms into the kitchen before he can even get the things he prepped yesterday.

"Knight!" Griffin comes over to him, glaring. It's not particularly harsh and he's not, like, twirling a mustache or something, so Kendall regards him cooly.

"Yeah?" He gets the prepped breads out and starts heating the oven. They'll rise nicely. He likes the way they're looking and he thinks the batch will turn out better than he thought.

"You were late."

Kendall glances up before going back to work. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that. But I'm here now."

"You aren't going to apologize?" Griffin demands.

Kendall counts to five. "I just did."

"You should be thankful for this job." Griffin says. "I took a chance on you."

"Please." Kendall scoffs. "We both know I'm the only reason people are still coming here." He bites his tongue to keep from saying anything more.

Griffin's face turns red, so fast that Kendall becomes momentarily worried for him. "I should fire you right now!"

Kendall steps away from the prep table, crossing his arms. "Do it then."

Griffin splutters, the vein in his forehead throbbing. He turns on his heel and storms out of the kitchen, yelling behind him, "You're on thin ice, Knight!"

Logan and the other kitchen staff stare at him with wide eyes. Kendall ignores it and goes back to work.

He hates his job. He should leave. But he needs to save up enough and-

And what? Leave and go to California like he'd planned?

Kendall's hands freeze over the bread.

He doesn't want to leave Poplar.

He doesn't know what happened or when it happened or if it's still currently happening but somehow, someway, Kendall doesn't want to leave this small, dumbass town.

And he's got three guesses why but he only needs one.

His heart hammers in his chest and his pulse speeds so quickly feels a little dizzy.

Kendall's spent his whole life leaving places. He left home and he never looked back; he never looks back. He's cultivated his entire life around the simple ideology that leaving is the best and that there are more places to be seen than he can ever see so he might as well try.

He's told himself, and others, his whole life that he'd keep going somewhere new because there was never any one place better than another.

It can't be because of James. He can't want to stay here because he has a goddamn crush, he's not that dumb or simple or romantic.

He looks around the kitchen; his vision seems blurry and no one is paying him any mind. Faintly, he hopes his freak out is an internal as he thinks it is.

He's been here two months, maybe coming up on three, and he should be ready to leave. He should be bored of this dumb town and bored of the dumb people and he is.

Except he doesn't really want to leave when James still tastes like bright, sharp emotion on his tongue and he wants to learn how to make that patty melt. And he's pretty sure Camille's birthday is coming up and he kind of cares about that, he thinks.

And last night, he faintly remembers talking to the bartender and liking the way the guy told jokes. And he liked the way that the people in the bar waved to him and he's starting to actually pay attention to Martha when he drops off his weekly rent and holy fucking shit, he doesn't know when it happened, but Kendall thinks maybe he's starting to become part of the community.

He slams his hands on the table. The ping of pain on his palms helps a little but he still feels like he's drowning in his thoughts.

He wants to stay in Poplar.

Holy shit, he should leave tonight.

He shuts off his thoughts, throwing himself into work. He finishes the things he was prepared to make and then foregoes his break, working on the most intricate cake he can think of. The decorations take forever to make, carefully pulling at homemade fondant with the concentration that requires every bit of his mind.

He works and works, taking breaks from the cake when it requires setting and working on the prep stuff for the morning. Twice, Logan tries to get him to go on lunch and a few times Camille and Tyler invite him out for various social events, seeing his clear panic across the room.

Kendall ignores them. He doesn't need them. He doesn't like them. He doesn't like this town.

He likes new things and he likes baking. So he'll make this new cake and he'll remind himself why he travels and he'll get in the junker as soon as he can and leave Poplar in the rearview.

Leave James in the rearview.

Holy shit, he likes James.

He drops the pan, watching as buttermilk frosting goes everywhere, splaying across the floor and bottom cabinets. His hands shake and Kendall feels a second away from passing out.

He likes James.

He likes him and he's such, such as dumbass.

"Dude." Tyler comes over, handing him a rag. They both start to clean up the mess. "You are out of it today."

"Hungover." Kendall says. He wipes at the frosting but it just spreads around, getting messier and messier the more Kendall touches it.

Tyler hums and grabs both rags, going to rinse them out. He returns with them when they're cleaned. They both scrub again.

Kendall wants to just lay on the floor. He's dizzy and stupid.

"Almost done with your shift, at least." Tyler says when they finish. He smiles at Kendall, something genuine and friendly and Kendall feels ill.

"Yeah, thanks." He pushes himself up and nods at Tyler. He remakes the frosting and slathers it on the cooled cake. Then he shuts out the rest of the kitchen and carefully lays the fondant over the icing.

He can't keep the thoughts at bay for too long.

He thinks about what Camille and Tyler were saying, about James and his ex. He doesn't know if it was accurate and he doesn't care except that maybe he kind of does.

He doesn't actually know if James likes him. He didn't even realize that he likes James until a few hours ago so he thinks its fair that he doesn't know where James stands on the situation.

James is attracted to him, Kendall knows that. He knows that James doesn't mind him in that way. But Kendall's always the one to seek James out, not the other way around. He's always the one to go to Brooke's. He the one to start things between them, time after time, and-

Holy shit, Kendall likes James but James doesn't like him back.

The realization hits him over the head, hard, twice as hard as his much nicer realization hit him last time.

James doesn't like him like that and he doesn't want to leave Poplar because of him and holy shit, Kendall is so screwed.

XxX

He ends the workday later than usual, trying to finish up the cake and the prep work for tomorrow. Griffin is annoyed with him all day until he tries a slice of the lemon-brandy cake and shuts up pretty fast. Kendall rolls his eyes and leaves right after.

He can feel the pinpricks of embarrassment on the back of his neck as he leaves Griffin's, his two awful realizations still pitting against one another and reminding him how much of a giant dumbass he is.

He can't believe he let himself like James. Not that there's anything wrong with James. Well, sure, the man blushes constantly-he can barely flirt before turning into a tomato. And, yes, technically speaking he doesn't actually like Kendall and he is a little bit using him as a spy for the business. He's also a pretty mediocre baker. And Kendall doesn't really even know that much about him.

But he does know that James makes great savory food and the pancakes this morning were some of the best things he's ever tasted. And James has a really nice laugh, one that sounds like it's from his gut every time and like he's always laughing to include you in on the joke. He has really nice eyes and he gives probably the best blowjobs Kendall has ever had. And he's nice and hot and-

Kendall slams his head into his hands. He scrubs at his eyes with the base of his palms and tries not to notice how hot his cheeks are getting.

He briefly considers the idea of just running. Just getting into his truck and leaving it all behind.

Instead, he crosses the street and goes into Brooke's.

It's a Sunday and they're already closing, so he sits himself at the counter, trying not to get in the way.

Stephanie waves at him from the corner she's at with her broom. "Do you want anything?"

He shakes his head and waves her off. "No, thanks, Stephanie."

She grins. "Just here for the company?"

His ears do not burn. "Something like that."

She laughs and he tries really hard not to blush harder.

"Stephanie! Can you do inventory some time next week, we keep running out of those to go-Kendall!" James stumbles when he looks up from his notepad, hand slamming on the counter to catch himself. His face brightens pink and Kendall's, goddammit, follows suit.

"I'll go take a look now." Stephanie says, setting the broom against the wall. She shoots Kendall a wink and he feels fucking flustered.

He never should have realized he had a crush.

"Kendall." James says again. Kendall doesn't try and stop the smile that quirks his lips up. James is wearing a blue flannel, buttoned up to his chest where a white v-neck peaks out. The sleeves are rolled up, showing off his forearms in such a wonderful way. His jeans are worn light and he shuffles a little, looking down before his gaze grabs Kendall's.

"James." Kendall leans forward just a bit.

He isn't sure which one of them kisses the other. One second, he's thinking about it, and the next, their lips are gently brushing in that same, unexpected way that they had this morning when they said goodbye.

"I didn't think you would stop by tonight." James pulls away and sits on the stool next to Kendall. Their knees bump until Kendall separates his and lets one of James' between. Their hands are both on their laps and Kendall can feel his fingertips burning, itching, yearning.

He swallows. "I could leave."

"Don't." James says. He clears his throat. "I mean, you can, of course, obviously, but-"

"I won't." Kendall says.

James smiles. It's a little crooked and shows his teeth.

"How was work?"

Kendall shrugs. "Okay. I made a lemon brandy cake."

"Mhmm." James grins. "Was that because of my vanilla brandy pancakes?"

Kendall's eyes widen and he snaps his fingers. "That's what it was!"

James laughs. "Yes. My mom's recipe."

Kendall's hands twitch. He smooths them against his jeans. "Most of your stuff are her recipes?"

"Yeah, mostly." James says. "She had this place basically my whole life. Learning the recipes wasn't necessarily difficult."

Kendall nods. "I get that."

"Yeah?" James cocks his head.

Kendall's throat closes. With decided effort, he reopens it. "My grandma kinda raised me. She...she was a good woman, you know. Hard, strict, but she was good."

"She taught you how to bake?" James asks it softly, as if it's too dangerous to be thrown out carelessly.

Kendall answers just as carefully. "In a way. I taught myself when she...she was old, you know, and her mind kinda went. But she used to love to bake and when she had better days, the house smelled like cookies or whatever."

Kendall had never told anyone that.

He doesn't know if he feels heavier or lighter; he just knows it's different.

"What happened?" James' fingers close around his and Kendall jolts, surprised. He looks down as James winds their fingers together and his heart is beating so fast, Kendall's sure that James can feel it from his hand.

"She died." Kendall tells him. "When I was seventeen. Old enough to be on my own then."

James frowns. "Still young."

He rolls his eyes, but it lacks the usual bravado he has. He can feel how much weaker it is and see how much more softly it lands by the expression James wears.

"And you've been on the road ever since?" James presses, rubbing his thumb across the top of Kendall's hand.

It's soothing.

"Pretty much. It's not some tragic fucking backstory, though." He says, shoulders straightening. "It's just, why would I stick around there, you know? It was a dumb town and there was no reason."

"No reason to stay." James mutters. "Are you looking for a reason?"

I've found one.

Kendall's heart stops.

"No." He gets out from his closing throat. He starts to pull his hand away. "I should go-"

"Don't." James repeats his command from earlier. And like earlier, Kendall complies. James smiles small when Kendall settles again. He squeezes Kendall's hand. "Want to go upstairs?"

Kendall suddenly becomes acutely aware that they're not alone. Stephanie and, presumably, Dak are just a few feet away in the kitchen and Kendall's out here baring his fucking heart and his cheeks feel so hot, he could fry an egg on them.

"Yes." He agrees quickly, standing up. He clears his throat and runs his hands through his hair, fingers scraping against his scalp and getting caught in the strands.

James gestures towards the stairs. "I'll go tell Dak to lock up."

Kendall nods and climbs the now familiar route up to James' apartment, shoving at the door hard enough so it'll crack open.

He lets himself inside and goes to the couch, toeing off his shoes and setting them next to the edge of the coffee table. He gets himself a bottle of water from the fridge.

He doesn't really know why he came here tonight except that he wanted to, which is fine, except that Kendall knows that he likes James and he knows that James doesn't like him and that's okay. He just needs to keep a goddamn lid on his emotions and not say anything stupid.

He might sort of like James a little bit more than he is supposed to, but it doesn't mean anything, and he doesn't want to fuck up this...friendship or whatever it is, by being an idiot. So he needs to just shut up and stop thinking so hard.

The door cracks open and James comes inside. He shoots Kendall a brilliant smile and takes off his own shoes. He stretches, arms high above his head, and it reveals a smooth strip of skin.

Kendall's mouth dries and he realizes that there's one really good way to keep his mouth too busy to blurt out any words.

Without any preamble, Kendall crosses the room and slides his hands into James' hair, tugging him towards him. Their lips crash together.

Kissing James is its own completely unique wonderful experience. It slams into him about a thousand different ways, lighting his nerves on fire. The way that he gasps out a little surprised breath, the way his fingers tremble when they press against his skin, the hard bite of his teeth against Kendall's bottom lip-every bit of kissing James sends Kendall into a frenzy.

When James slips his hands underneath Kendall's shirt, it's really no wonder that Kendall fell for him.

His fingers are long and deft, sliding up and down his back, with just a hint of nail. It makes Kendall gasp and when he does, James takes advantage, turning and pushing against Kendall's chest until he slams into the door. It's hard and makes Kendall groan even louder.

"Holy shit." He lets out in a trembling breath when James moves away from his mouth to suck bruising kisses on his neck and collarbone. Each hard suck has Kendall grinding his hips and tightening his grip in James' hair. He lets one hand fall to James' shoulder, fingernails digging into the muscle there when James takes the skin at the hollow between his collarbones between his teeth.

It's delicious and painful and Kendall can't think about anything, let alone say anything he shouldn't be saying.

He tugs at James' hair until he raises his head and Kendall freezes, just staring. James' lips are bright red and shiny, parted with his tongue just ever so slightly peeking out. His pupils are blown wide and his chest is rising and falling quickly as he sucks in air.

They kiss like it's important, like one of them will win and the only way to keep the other from drowning is to pull him up by his lips. They bite and suck on each other's lips and Kendall is wild with need by the time they end up crashing onto the floor, the carpet scraping against his back where his t-shirt rode up.

The idea that Kendall ever went a day without James' lips on him is laughable now.

He kisses him harder just to prove it.

* * *

 **Done! So, it looks like things are moving forward with Kames, especially with Kendall finally realizing his feelings for James.**

 **I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter, as well as if you happened to have a favorite part/moment!**

 **Again, I hope you all enjoyed! The next chapter will pick up where this one left off and should be up by Wednesday at the latest!**

 **Until then!**

 **-Epically Obsessed**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Hello again everyone! It feels like it's been forever, but I'm finally back! :)**

 **Before we get into the new chapter, I would like to thank everyone that read last chapter! I would also like to give a huge thank you to Side1ways, Guest, winterschild11, and RainbowDiamonds for reviewing!**

 **I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

In more ways than one, James is floored by Kendall.

Literally, he's rutting up against the man while his back scrapes against the carpet. Figuratively, everything out of Kendall's mouth surprises him. He finds himself gaping wildly most of the time, mouth open and closing like a fish, unsure if he's being toyed with.

Kendall wears sincerity like it offends him and keeps that same aloof expression that forced James out of the bar those few weeks ago on his face most of the time. The few times the mask breaks, they both seem equally surprised-though Kendall's is definitely tinged with more disgust than James thinks is strictly necessary.

James rolls his hips up, his breath torn from his lungs when their bodies hit against one another.

Kendall lets out a low groan and it's enough to fill James with confidence.

He hooks a leg between Kendall's, twisting his body until he's rolled on top of Kendall, and he looks so good that James just sits back on his heels and watches him.

Breathing heavily, Kendall lets him.

James likes the slope of his nose and the way his lips look when they're swollen. He likes his eyes, the way the green burns lightly against the dark, growing pupils. He likes the way he laughs when it catches him off guard and the way he doesn't mind taking what he wants but always stops to make sure James wants it, too.

With a start, James realizes that he likes Kendall.

Like, truly, genuinely _likes_ him. It steals his breath and James can't stop staring at him, feeling his own eyes widen and his body still with the sharpness of the realization.

He knew he was attracted to him and he knew that he enjoyed Kendall being around him, but suddenly, James knows that he doesn't just like this part. He wants to bake with Kendall and tell him bad jokes and teach him the importance of breakfast.

He thinks his mom would've really liked him.

"What?" Kendall asks, pushing himself up on his elbows. "You've gone quiet. Was...is this too much?"

James stops short of running his fingers through Kendall's hair. "No." He answers. "This is great."

He feels his chest constrict, his muscles desperately fighting against the urge to reach out and touch Kendall in a way he's not allowed.

He's never been in a position like this: able to kiss and touch the person he wants to, but not able to hold his hand. James isn't sure he's ever really wanted to hold someone's hand.

Actually, now that he thinks about it, he's pretty sure he's already held Kendall's hand. He wants to do it again with such a purpose that it's almost funny.

But then, he's not allowed to do it, so it really isn't that funny. Because James knows that Kendall might be okay with him as...what? A friend? A fuck buddy? He might be okay with whatever they are now, but that doesn't mean he'd be okay with what James realizes with such a painful start he wants.

Kendall's a drifter, that's what Carlos called him. He goes from town to town and he doesn't give a shit and James doesn't _care_ because that's half the reason James was drawn to him in the first place. What was it that James thought about him that night in the parking lot?

A wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am attitude.

James decidedly wants this to not have that kind of attitude and the disappointment that that's what they are hits him so heavily, he rolls off of Kendall and lays next to him on the carpet.

It's not very comfortable and he thinks about how his bed is only a room away. It wouldn't be that difficult for them to go in there.

But the idea of Kendall rolling in his sheets, his hair splayed on his pillows, his whole bed smelling like him-it makes James' heart ache in a way he's never felt before.

He blinks at the ceiling.

When he finally stops and looks over, Kendall's doing the same thing.

"Well..." Kendall says, eyes still focused on the popcorn material of the ceiling. James knows it's ugly, but his mom picked it out, so who cares?

"Well." James agrees.

"I want to learn how to make your burger." Kendall says.

James turns and frowns at him. "Oh...okay."

"It seems fair." He says quickly. "I taught you how to make my brownies."

"I could never recreate that. You just threw things in while talking about understanding the batter. It was gibberish."

Kendall's cheeks turn noticeably red and James feels vindictively pleased with it.

"Yeah, well, that's on you. That's how I make them."

James shifts so he's lying on his side, propping his head up with one hand, his elbow digging into the carpet. "I'll teach you." He says. "It's pretty simple."

"Good." Kendall nods and then mimics James' position. "I really liked it."

"I tried being vegetarian for a month." James blurts it out and immediately regrets it. What a dumb story, there was literally no reason for him to have done that…

But Kendall grins. "Yeah? How did that go?"

James clears his throat. "Terribly. Mom was such an amazing cook. I missed her chicken salad by hour three."

Kendall laughs, head falling in his hand just a little bit and his neck exposed. His Adam's apple bobs as he shakes. "Yeah, your menu isn't necessarily veggie friendly."

"Hey, I make a great veggie lasagna. And our veggie quiche...to-die-for."

Kendall nods. "Sure, sure. I've never seen it on the menu."

"We do it on Saturdays, usually. That's when one of our regulars comes in and he really likes it."

Kendall lets out another chuckling breath. "Small towns, man."

"Small towns." James agrees. He shifts a little, their bodies pressed a little closer. "Do you like small towns or cities?"

"Small towns." Kendall answers quickly. His ears turn red and James finds that for some reason, he really loves the sign of embarrassment.

"Breakfast or dinner?"

"I think it's only safe if I answer breakfast." Kendall says, raising an eyebrow.

James grins. "Smart."

"My turn." Kendall taps a finger against his lips. "Movies or TV?"

"Movies." James answers easily. "I love TV, but it always seems that there's never enough time for it."

"Good point. I approve." Kendall makes a motion of a checkmark with his hand.

James racks his brain for another question. He feels eager, his palms sweating a little. He can't believe how much information he's dragging out of Kendall tonight and he wants to keep this going for as long as possible.

"Coffee or tea?"

Kendall scoffs. "Coffee, obviously."

James laughs. "Me too."

"Obviously." Kendall repeats, winking. He scoots a little closer, lips just a centimeter away, and then breathes out his question. "Giving or receiving?"

James' mouth dries instantly. "Like...gifts?"

"Some people would call it that." Kendall says in an agreeable tone. He lets his eyes drop to James' mouth and doesn't raise his gaze again. "I would."

"I...what about you?"

Kendall makes a humming sound low in his throat and James is so close, he thinks he can almost feel it. His pulse responds to the phantom feeling, speeding up almost dangerously.

He can't look away from Kendall's lips any easier than Kendall is looking away from his. It's intoxicating in the fullest way and James decides that he doesn't need the game to go on any longer.

Kendall licks his lips. "I like both. But let's see if I can spin that a different way."

He stands up and offers James a hand. James accepts it quickly and lets himself be pulled to his feet.

When Kendall leads him to the bedroom, James stumbles in after him.

Kendall's already taken off his shirt and is unbuckling his belt when James closes the door behind them. He's facing away from James, towards the bed, and James can see the lines of Kendall's back muscles, the way the move and twist as he does. James' mouth dries and Kendall, as if he can tell, turns his head just slightly.

"Get on the bed, Diamond." Kendall says lowly.

James can't do anything but comply.

He shucks off his jeans and flannel, laying in the middle of the bed in just his t-shirt and boxers.

When Kendall's own jeans clatter to the floor, he climbs onto the bed and throws one leg over James', straddling his hips on his knees.

"Now…" Kendall says, looking down at him. He looks _incredible_ at this angle. The heavy heat inside James' stomach is so much more pronounced with the hammering of the affection on his chest; he wants _so much_ and it burns inside him.

Kendall hasn't even touched him and James feels close to being undone.

James puts his hands on Kendall's hips, his thumbs digging below the waistline of Kendall's boxers. He can feel the sharp jutting of Kendall's hip bones and he runs his thumbs against them, only just stopping himself from rocking up.

"I owe you something." Kendall leans lower and places his mouth just above James'. "And now I'm going to give it to you."

James lurches up for the kiss and Kendall slides down, ignoring it. James just misses his mouth and his whole body lights up a little at the near-kiss.

Kendall stops at James' neck first, tasting the skin there with his tongue and rolling the skin between his teeth and lips. Then he sucks hard enough that James' hands dig into Kendall's hips, a groan torn from his lips.

He pulls away after lavishing the bruise with his tongue, soothing away any of the remaining sharp pain. James' hips are rocking but Kendall's body is too far away and there's nothing there for him to press against. Instead, Kendall moves a little lower, again and again, repeating the bright kisses until a trail of bruises can be traced down his throat and chest, ending at the juncture between his hip and waist.

James hasn't even really been touched yet, but he's a writhing mess, his thoughts incoherent as he tries desperately to follow Kendall's ministrations across his body. He feels empirically ruined and Kendall hasn't even touched the part of him aching the most.

James doesn't even realize he's begging until Kendall looks up, eyes hooded and framed with lashes, to smile. "Okay." He says, answering something James doesn't remember saying.

Slowly, he peels James' boxers off of him and James nearly cries in relief as the material is pulled away. The air is cold when it hits him, but then Kendall's hand is closing around him and he's one good twist of his wrist away from blacking out.

His cock is already leaking and James can't look away as Kendall pulls his hand away and up to his mouth, licking a long strip across his palm, before swiping at the pre-come on his tip and then sliding slowly and roughly up and down. It's an _impossible_ tightness and heat, the pace so languid that James can feel tears of frustration prickle at the corner of his eyes.

His hands are knotted in Kendall's hair and his hips are rolling again and again without his own volition. He can't do anything but gently thrust into his hand and he wants to _scream_ and then…

Kendall's hand slides down as low as it can, gripping tightly at the base, and then his mouth is covering the rest of it.

Kendall's tongue slides against the top and the side, swirling and soft as his mouth descends. His hand falls away when his lips reach the fist. James can practically _feel_ his throat relaxing as he swallows him all the way down.

He moves just as slowly as he did before, hollowing his cheeks and pulling almost all the way of before sliding back down, so smooth and careful. Kendall's tongue and lips work together as if they're working of their own accord with no mind to the way that James is thrusting and groaning and writhing beneath them.

He can't breathe, his lungs gasping and searching for air while words he can't even hear fall out of his mouth in a string of incomprehensible, desperate syllables.

Kendall uses one hand to grip at James' hip, not stopping him from thrusting, but instead encouraging it, pushing him harder and deeper and his throat lets out a low hum that James _feels_.

"Shit, shit, shit, oh my god, _Kendall_. Oh, fuck." James forces his eyes open and the image of Kendall, smirking around his cock as he bobs up and down, eyes completely black and watching him, is enough that he clenches them closed again. "Shit, please, Kendall, _please_."

James doesn't know exactly what he's begging for, but Kendall seems to.

Kendall pulls off of him, the feeling so instantly miserable that James lets out a croaked plea.

Kendall licks his lips and reaches up, pressing a short kiss to the hollow of his throat. "It's okay." He says, shifting so they're lying next to each other. James grabs at him, a little hard, nails scraping and teeth bumping as he kisses Kendall as hard as he can and rips his boxers from his body.

When the boxers are thrown to the floor, James slides his leg between Kendall's and starts grinding his hips, too far gone to be practiced or fluid with his motions. Kendall doesn't even seem to mind, their kiss getting messier and slower, tongues languishing against one another while their cocks slide.

The feeling is nearly painful, it's so good, and James wants more.

He pulls away abruptly, throwing his body as far away from Kendall as possible, and closing his eyes. It takes him a few long, unbearable seconds to fight off the wave of his impending orgasm, but when he finally does, he can hear Kendall calling his name, the concern thick enough that he thinks he might have been saying it for a while.

"Sorry." He gets out, surprised by how wrecked his voice sounds. "I...I just-"

"It's okay, you don't have to explain." Kendall is reaching around for the blankets and James' hand shoots out, wrapping around his wrist to stop him.

"No, I don't want to stop." James tugs him closer and his cock jumps, even though it's untouched. Any amount of contact with Kendall seems to jolt through him like red hot electricity. "I want you."

"What?" Kendall furrows his brows and James stares at him, waiting. When it clicks, Kendall's eye dilate so fast, James almost comments on it. "Are you sure?"

His tone has fallen a full octave and James would be _damn_ sure now if he wasn't before. "Yes." He says emphatically. Then tacks on, "Please."

Kendall lets out a shaky breath. "Holy shit, yes."

He moves them gently, laying so that he's beneath James.

James shifts so he can reach the nightstand, grabbing the lube out of the top drawer and condom. He lays them both on the bed and looks down at Kendall.

He looks _so, so good_ like that, mouth open and eyes blown wide, his chest heaving, and James is sure there's never been anyone half as beautiful as Kendall.

"You're sure?" James realizes he didn't exactly ask.

Kendall rolls his eyes and tugs at James' hips. "Yes, shit, _hurry_."

It's all the encouragement he needs and James grins. He grabs the lube and pours a generous amount on his fingers, rubbing it between his two fingers to warm it. When it's not quite as cold, James leans down. He captures Kendall's lips between his, kissing him slow and deep, lightly running his tongue against Kendall's, then the top of his mouth, urging the little sounds and gasps out of Kendall's throat.

After a few minutes, James runs his fingers down Kendall's cock, smiling into the kiss when he feels it jump and Kendall's hips lift absently, chasing the light feeling.

James lets his fingers keep running down until he's at Kendall's ass. As slowly and gently as he's able, he inserts one finger, trying not to move and let Kendall get used to feeling.

When Kendall's body relaxes and he starts moving, just a little, against him, James takes the hint. He moves his finger in small circular motions as he stretches Kendall. Their kiss becomes more of another open-mouthed press, both of them breathing too heavily to manage kissing. They suck in each other's air and James inserts a second finger.

He pumps into Kendall, resting his head in the crook of Kendall's neck. The sounds he's making are so deep and guttural and James feels them inside his own gut as if he's the one making them. His cock hurts, straining against his stomach, desperate for attention. He ignores it for now as he inserts a third finger.

When Kendall is good and stretched and James thinks his orgasm is staved off for now, he kisses Kendall again, only gently moving his fingers.

"How do you feel?"

Kendall lets out a long groan, grinding down on James' fingers. His eyes are clenched shut and James feels drunk.

"Kendall." He kisses him again. "I need you to tell me how you feel."

"Good." He drawls, the word so long that James thinks he must feel drunk, too. "Good, ready."

James might cry. _Thank god._

He pulls his fingers out and with trembling hands, slides on the condom. Then he pours out more lube his hands, rubbing it together, and pumping his cock with it a few times until the condom is coated.

Kendall's eyes have flown open and he watches, mouth agape, as James lines himself up.

He moves slowly in light, shallow thrusts until he fully seated inside of Kendall. They both let out matching, guttural noises and James' entire body shakes with the effort to wait for Kendall to adjust.

When Kendall raises his own shaking hands to James' hair, grabbing purchase there, and telling him to move, James doesn't waste any more time.

Nothing has ever felt this good. James knows that, he knows that this is the best he's ever felt. Kendall is tight and hot and writhing beneath him, low encouragements being breathed out between pinched moans and shuddering gasps.

Kendall is a thousand times hotter beneath him than anything that James could've imagined and he has to use all of his control to not just fuck wildly and roughly into him.

"Jesus, fuck, James, _please, more_." Kendall strings the words together, tugging at James' hair until their lips are crashing together and James' hips are jacking into Kendall's hard and fast.

He can feel his vision start to tunnel and his stomach clenches. James pulls away from the kiss and wraps his hand around Kendall's cock, pumping him nice and slow, a total contrast to the hard fucking he's giving him.

When Kendall's body tightens, muscles locking and his head thrown back, mouth wide open in a silent scream, James comes.

He juts his hips through his orgasm, tightening his grip on Kendall's cock accidentally. He can feel Kendall's cock spasm, feel the warmth coating his hand and their stomachs, while stars light up his vision and his whole body shakes with the intensity of the explosion inside of him.

When he's done, he collapses, only just stopping himself from falling directly on top of Kendall. One arm is thrown out, catching him in the nick of the time.

With the last bit of energy he manages to muster, he pulls out and rolls over to his side of the bed. He takes off the condom and ties it, dropping it into the bedside bin. Then he collapses against the pillows, exhaustion taking over his body.

He wants to turn to Kendall, say something, _anything_ , because he's never felt quite as good as he does. He wants to kiss Kendall and tell him that he thinks maybe he likes him more than he's said.

He falls asleep before he can do any of it, and if he wakes a little when is Kendall is pulling him to him, spooning him from behind, James is not at fault for snuggling a little closer.

* * *

 **Done! So, it seems that Kames are getting closer and closer with each passing chapter.**

 **I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter, as well as if you happened to have a favorite part/moment!**

 **Again, I hope you all enjoyed! Unfortunately, we're close to the finish line of this story. There are only a couple of chapter left. The next chapter will be up sometime within the week, so there shouldn't be too long of a wait for that.**

 **Until then!**

 **-Epically Obsessed**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Hello again everyone! New chapter alert!**

 **Before we get started, I would like to thank everyone that read last chapter! I would also like to give a huge thank you to winterschild11, Side1ways, Guest, and RainbowDiamonds for reviewing! :)**

 **This chapter is on the shorter side, but it's an important one.**

 **I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

Kendall wakes up so slowly, he's a little bit convinced he's still dreaming.

He blinks, taking in the room around him. He's in James' bedroom for the second time in as many days, beneath the covers and fully pressed into the mattress. It's so comfortable that Kendall momentarily lets himself fall unconscious again. When he blinks awake for the second time, he decides he probably should actually get up.

The memory of last night plays on repeat in his mind. His body aches in the nicest way and he still feels full and satisfied in a way he thinks might be entirely new. The feeling of James inside of him was so all-encompassing that Kendall thinks he could never get tired of it.

James is still asleep, his body curled in a c-shape with Kendall pressed to his back. Kendall leans up slowly and sees that James' face is still relaxed, mouth parted slightly open as he sleeps. He looks damn near _adorable_ and Kendall only just stops himself from groaning.

The sunlight is streaming in through thin curtains and Kendall extracts himself from the covers and bed as slowly and carefully as he can. He doesn't want to wake James up yet.

He's still naked from last night and he grimaces at how messy he is. He grabs his clothes from where they've been thrown about the room. He can't find his jeans but decides it doesn't matter and quietly shuffles to the bathroom. He cleans himself off as best he can and dresses in his boxers and t-shirt before slipping out and quietly going into the kitchen.

The coffee is already brewing, thank God for James' timer coffee pot. He could just get dressed and sneak out, come by Brooke's after work. Or, he could wait for a cup of coffee and then write a note, let James know that he had to run.

He should do one of those things. He should leave.

Instead, Kendall finds the eggs in the fridge and cracks a half dozen into a bowl, whipping them together.

He starts breakfast, keeping the light off except for the small one above the stove. He makes easy buttermilk biscuits, the kind that only really take twenty minutes if you roll the dough fast enough. Then he whips together the scrambled eggs, adding cheddar cheese and a touch of nutmeg. When they're done, he makes two plates and pours two cups of coffee. He can't remember how James takes his coffee and it annoys him, so he fills a glass with a bit of creamer.

He sets them on the kitchen table and turns on the light.

He'll wake James up-maybe in a really nice way, the kind of way that he _really_ wants to with his mouth and hands instead of words-and they'll eat breakfast and Kendall won't say anything dumb but he'll spend his morning with James, the way he wants.

He makes it halfway through the living room when the door to the apartment opens and he jumps so high, he nearly falls.

James jumps too, a loud curse coming out of his mouth as he uses one hand to grab at his chest.

"You scared the hell out of me!" James accuses, coming in through the door and closing it behind him. Balanced with his his hip and on one hand is a tray. There are steaming piles of sausage and french toast, along with two glasses of orange juice.

Kendall's too tired to care. He grins widely.

"Is that breakfast?" He asks.

James bites down on his bottom lip, his surprised anger replaced with sheepishness. Kendall wants to kiss him. "It's the most important meal of the day."

"It really is." He walks back to the kitchen and James trails after him, coming to an abrupt stop when he gets into the kitchen. "I...did you…"

"Breakfast," Kendall sits down in the chair he'd used the other morning, grinning up at James, "is the most important meal of the day."

James blinks at him. And then he laughs.

It's loud and long and he has to set the tray down to put both hands on his hips, bellowing. When he's done, he wipes at his eyes and sits down, the occasional chuckle still falling out.

"Then I guess we feast." James laughs out.

Kendall laughs a little, too. "Bon appetit."

And there's way too much food and Kendall thinks his biscuits could be better but the french toast is to die for. They keep smiling at each other from over their forkfuls of eggs and Kendall thinks that maybe it's okay for him to stick around Poplar a little bit longer.

They finish their meal, barely chatting, but just enjoying the food and each other's company. James had dressed in pajama bottoms, the v-neck he was wearing yesterday, and his hair is ruffled and messy. Kendall is unreasonably fond.

When James stands up to do the dishes, Kendall offers to dry them.

He knows he's stalling but he's not ready to go to Griffin's and leave the bubble they've found themselves in. It's comforting and good and Kendall likes it way too much to be content with leaving.

They finish the dishes. James turns around, leaning against the sink, his arms folded across his chest. He stretches out his legs and it's such a clear copy of the pose that Kendall usually puts himself in that he can't look away. He likes what it does to the lines of James' body and he likes that James' body is trying to mimic Kendall's.

He likes James.

He really wishes he didn't.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" James blurts out.

And it is a blurt, judging by the way James' eyes widen and his hands clench into fists.

Kendall licks his lips. "Nothing." He says. He winces and hopes that James didn't notice the way his voice went up an octave.

"It's Carlos' birthday." James continues.

"The bartender?"

"Yeah….yeah, Carlos is one of my best friends and we're all-well, me, Dak, Stephanie, Lucy, and maybe one or two others. We're just going over to Carlos' place and we're going to...I don't know, drink beers or whatever. You could come. You know, if you want."

Kendall's heart is in his throat. "You want me to come?"

"Well…" He swallows and Kendall watches. "Yes. I mean, you're going to be here for a little while, right? Might as well make some friends."

"Right." Kendall does _not_ deflate.

"And," James looks up, eyes staring at the ceiling as he takes a deep breath, "I would like you to come. With me."

Their eyes snap to each other. They stare, unblinking, for an immeasurable amount of time.

Clearing his throat, Kendall moves and steps between James' legs. "I'll bring the cake."

James' hands find Kendall's hips as if on instinct. "Thank God. I was in charge of the cake."

"Oh, you're _so_ lucky I'm around." Kendall teases.

James' face flushes red again and he grins. "Yeah...I really am."

Kendall doesn't know what else to say.

He kisses James instead. They kiss for a few minutes, soft the way that Kendall barely knows how to describe, and their hands firm against one another's hips. The urgency from last night is gone and this kiss, unlike so many of their others, exists just for the purpose of it. It's new and Kendall finds that he really does like new things.

When James pulls back, it's with an annoyed groan. "I have to get ready for work."

Kendall sighs. "Me too."

"See you tomorrow?" James asks.

Kendall can't help it; he smiles. "What time?"

"Nine thirty?"

Kendall nods. "I'll be the one with the cake."

"I'll be the one that looks like me." James winces as soon as the words are out of his mouth. Kendall laughs and kisses him again, spilling some of his laughter in his mouth.

He whistles on his way home, thinking about the different types of birthday cakes he could make for tomorrow night.

XxX

Kendall shows up at nine thirty on the dot. He went to the one department store in town and bought one of those big, fancy cake holders, with the dome cover, and he carries it with him like a baby, both arms securing it to his chest.

The cake took him all afternoon. Luckily, Martha had developed a sweet spot for him and let him into the church's basement so he could bake it. It's a German dark chocolate cherry cake made with homemade candied cherries and rum and it is probably one of the most beautiful things Kendall has ever created.

Not that he's bragging. He just….knows a good cake when he sees one.

He lets himself into Brooke's and grins when he sees Stephanie and Dak dancing. Dak is dancing _terribly_ , a full on mistake of movement, while Stephanie does the jitterbug as if she's twelve and eaten all the pixie sticks in the state.

He watches them, trying not to laugh, until James comes in from the kitchen groaning.

"You two are _terrible_." He says, shaking his head. His head snaps to Kendall and he grins. "Hi, Kendall."

Stephanie, who had been sticking her tongue out at James, spins around and her eyes widen. "Oh, hey, Kendall! Didn't see you there."

"I figured as much." Kendall winks ad her and she laughs. Dak is decidedly not looking at him and Kendall decides not to tease them about their dancing.

He crosses over to where James is and sets the cake down on the nearest table. He puts it firmly in the middle, carefully removing his hands and making sure he doesn't bump the table.

"Jeez." Stephanie says. "Did you bring a bomb?"

He rolls his eyes, pretending like he's not flushing. "It's just a cake." He says.

"I'm sure it's great." James reaches for him and then his hand snaps back down, then up to run through his hair. Kendall grins and closes the space between them so their sides are touching. They both relax.

"I'm careful with it because I _care_." Kendall says, dramatically genuine.

Stephanie laughs loudly and Dak joins in. "You're in a good mood." Dak notes.

Kendall shrugs, though his lips are still twitching and he knows he is. He's just... _happy_.

James doesn't really like him the way that Kendall does but Kendall knows that James likes him at least a little bit and he can't help but feel high from it. He feels so close to something he can't name.

Plus, a good night in bed is never bad for the mood.

As if he heard what he was thinking, James' head snaps towards Kendall and he nods, smiling at him. "Ready?"

Kendall picks up the cake again, hugging it to his chest. "Ready."

Stephanie hooks her arm in Dak's and it cements his theory that the two are dating. He realizes he could have just asked James, but he likes having figured it out on his own. It sits right with him to know things about James.

He waits outside the restaurant while James locks up the door and by the time he's ready, Stephanie and Dak are halfway down the street.

"We usually drink, so we're just walking." James says quietly to him. "Is that alright?"

"Of course." Kendall nods.

James shoves his hands into his pocket. "Good. Good. So-"

Kendall raises an eyebrow when James cuts himself off. "Yeah?"

"Nothing."

"Okay." Kendall isn't going to badger him. They walk in quiet and it's a little nice. The Kansas air is sweet and warm and he's starting to recognize the streets enough to feel...good. To feel at _home_. Kendall really isn't sure what to do with all these little realizations that keep building up.

He decides to ignore them. At least for tonight. For the party.

"I just...they might say some stuff." James finally says.

Kendall looks at him, raising an eyebrow. "What kind of stuff?"

"I...I mean, I don't know. Just...some of them think we're dating."

Kendall's heart stops. "They do?"

James rubs his hands over his face. "I've told them a thousand times we're not, but they just won't stop."

His heart restarts, too quickly, and he can't believe how heavy a stomach can feel. "It's okay, James." Kendal walks a little faster. "I know that's not what we are or what you want. I'll set it straight."

"They just got it into their heads and-"

"James. Seriously, it's fine. We're not interested in each other like that."

"Wait, you're not interested?"

"No." Kendall answers quickly. Then his lungs fill too much. "Wait...are you?"

"No! I mean...I'm not if you're not."

"Well, I'm not if you're not."

They both stare at each other, having given up on walking all together. Kendall is confused and his head is starting to pound and his palms are too sweaty to be holding this cake. They start walking again.

There's nothing but the low thrum of Stephanie's voice too far away to make out any words and their footsteps for half a block. Well, that, and Kendall's pounding, angry pulse.

Five minutes later and they watch Stephanie run up a few stairs, Dak a few steps behind her, and they walk into a house without knocking.

He notices that James has stopped when he gets a couple steps ahead and then he turns, frowning.

James covers the space and grabs him by the back of the neck.

"Fuck it." James says, and then they're kissing.

It's short and sharp, a possessive kiss that spreads heat through Kendall's body without easing _any_ of the confusion. Everything is swirling inside his mind and he can't make sense of any of it.

He kisses back, trying to explain with his tongue and lips what his throat can't.

When James pulls away, they're both panting. Then James swipes his thumb across his bottom lip. He takes a shuddering breath and shakes his head. "Okay. To the wolves, then."

James walks up the stairs and pushes the door open, shooting Kendall one last smile and a wink before going inside.

Taking a deep breath, Kendall follows.

* * *

 **Done! Like I said, a shorter chapter, but an important one, as it leads us into the next chapter which will sadly** **be the final one.**

 **I'd love to hear your thoughts on the chapter, as well as if you happened to have a favorite part/moment!**

 **Again, I hope you all enjoyed! I haven't decided when I'll post the final chapter just yet, but it will be up by the first half of next week, no later than Wednesday.**

 **Until then! :D**

 **-Epically Obsessed**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Hello again everyone! I can't believe I'm saying this, but we've reached the final chapter!**

 **Before we get into that, I would like to thank everyone that read last chapter, and this story in general! I would also like to give a huge thank you to RainbowDiamonds, Guest, winterschild11, Side1ways, and XxxAnimaniacxxX for taking the time to review and share their thoughts! :)**

 **I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

James _knows_ that Kendall isn't his boyfriend.

He's a boy and he's just a friend but he's a boy friend who he had the best sex of his life with and now he's bringing him to meet all his friends, who are basically his family, and, yeah, okay, James is a little nervous.

He goes into Carlos' house, yelling out a greeting and shucking off his coat. He throws it on the coat rack and takes the cake from Kendall's hands so he can take his off, too.

Carlos comes into the entryway, eyes wide, and he grins broadly. "Oh!" He turns his head towards the living room. "James brought a date!"

He yells it and James' entire face erupts into flames. He knows it does because Carlos laughs heartily and happily.

"Kendall." Carlos says as he comes over and shakes his hand. Kendall smiles at him, but it's a little nervous, James can tell, and he wishes he knew how to save the guy from Carlos. "Nice to see you not drunk in a bar."

James wants to punch his best friend. Somehow, though, it looks like Kendall's relaxed.

"It's nice to see you while I'm not drunk in a bar." He replies.

Carlos laughs. He points at him, slapping him on the shoulder, before turning to James. "I like him. He's a keeper."

"He's not mine to keep." James mumbles, shaking his head. He thrusts the cake at Carlos to distract him from teasing them. "Look. Kendall made you a cake."

As predicted, Carlos is suddenly completely distracted. "A cake! For me?"

Kendall shrugs. James bets that if his hair was pulled back just a tad, they'd see bright red ears, though. "Happy birthday."

Carlos turns on his heels abruptly, going into the living room. James rolls his eyes and grabs Kendall's hand, squeezing it once, before letting it go and following Carlis into the living room. He can feel Kendall not far behind him.

"Look!" Carlos is saying when they get there. "The new guy cares about me more than all of you sons of bitches."

Stephanie looks away from her conversation with Lucy, who waves at James. He waves back, ignoring Carlos' tirade.

"Way to show us up, Kendall." Stephanie says, but winks to show she's kidding.

There's a slight moment where Kendall is quiet and they're all waiting to see how he replies. James regrets forcing him to come to this.

But then Kendall shrugs. "I can't help it. We all know I'm the best baker in town."

There's another pause, and then everyone's laughing. James grins and throws an arm around Kendall's shoulder, so relieved that he's nearly dizzy from it. "All of you better know that."

"Why?" Kendall frowns.

"Duh." Dak says as he stands up and pours two glasses of wine. He hands one to Kendall, a huge grin on his face as he raises his own slightly. "You're the enemy."

"Ah." Kendall nods while everyone else laughs. "I forgot."

"How could you?" Lucy shakes her head. "Doesn't James remind you _constantly_? I'm Lucy, by the way."

Kendall shakes her hand and Carlos sets the cake down on the table, getting between them. "Don't get too comfy with Lucy. She'll set you up on a date with someone she _swears_ is perfect for you and then you'll find out he has a literal Dear John."

Everyone laughs and James blinks. "Wait, what?"

James sits on the couch and everyone settles around the room, getting comfortable as Carlos delves into a huge story involving an Italian restaurant, Lucy's matchmaking skills, and a missing Navy SEAL. It's elaborate and Carlos seems to be playing the hesitantly jilted lover, but he's laughing so hard in some parts that he can't continue for a few minutes, so no one seems to feel that bad.

"Holy shit, man." Kendall shakes his head. "Small towns are so dramatic."

"Um, yeah." Stephanie tosses her hair. "What else are we supposed to do for entertainment around here?"

Everyone hums their agreement. The conversation flows from there and the evening passes quickly, effortlessly. James is kind of shocked by how easily Kendall fits into their group. He's sitting a little too straight and his answers are occasionally a bit stilted, but he seems to be trying, and James isn't quite sure how to articulate how much that means to him.

He can't quite articulate how much _Kendall_ means to him.

He shakes the thought away and stands abruptly. Dak stops talking mid sentence and everyone looks at him. "Cake?" James asks.

"Sure." Carlos says. "It's pay attention to me time."

James rolls his eyes. "As if most nights aren't."

James goes into the kitchen, Carlos trailing after him. The conversation picks back up in the living room, a low thrum of laughter and stories.

Carlos closes the kitchen door behind them, spinning around with a huge grin on his face. "So."

James sighs and digs in the cupboard for enough saucers. "So?"

"You guys dating?"

James groans. "No, I told you, we're not."

Carlos' eyebrows furrow as if genuinely confused. "Why? You _like_ him."

James shrugs. "It doesn't matter."

"Dude." Carlos sighs. "It _does_. You're, like, chronically uncaring. It's the only bad trait you've even got. But you care about this guy in a way that's _pathological_. Even when you 'hated' him for those, like, twenty minutes, you cared. And you never brought Kyle to my place. You either hung out with his friends or you didn't see him at all. And now, you're bringing someone you aren't even technically seeing to our family fucking dinners-"

"I didn't think it was a big deal!"

"I didn't mean it in a bad way." Carlos says. "But...you like him. You, like, _really_ like him."

James is too tired with this conversation to deny it. "So what?"

"So...tell him."

"He doesn't like me like that." James has already tried to explain this to himself. It sucks just as much to explain it to someone else.

"Bullshit." Carlos grabs a knife and a handful of forks. "Anyone with half a brain can see the guy's into you. Just do it, man."

He leaves the kitchen and James trails after him, trying not to feel hope in his stomach.

Kendall looks up when he comes back into the living room, shooting him a small smile. James' heart flutters.

They sing a quick round of happy birthday and then Carlos is cutting the cake, giving each of them a generous portion.

The first bite creates a chorus of praises and every new bite is an encore.

" _Dude_." Carlos groans out, scraping the last of the crumbs on his fork. "What the everlasting fuck?"

Kendall laughs. He pushes the remainder of his cake onto James' plate absently and brushes a stray strand of hair out of his face. James grins at him and takes another bite.

"This is so damn good." Stephanie agrees. "I am beside myself."

Kendall smiles. "Thanks."

"Why the hell are you working for Griffin?" Dak asks around a mouthful of cake. "He's an ass and you're an angel, apparently."

James' ears perk up and he watches Kendall as he grimaces. "He really is an ass. But he was hiring, so." He shrugs.

"That's dumb." Carlos says, cutting himself a second slice. He moans around his first bite. "You should be working for James."

They both freeze.

Dak laughs. "What, you seriously haven't thought about it? James makes the best food. Kendall makes damn _miracles_ in dessert form, and together, asshole Griffin will be run out of business."

James swallows around a lump in his throat. "Well, I'm not sure about that. People liked it even before Kendall showed up."

Kendall scoffs. "Please. Once I'm gone, he'll be run out of town."

Everyone looks at one another. "Why?"

Kendall cocks his head before looking at James. "I told you. All his stuff is frozen. Once people find out, no one will go there. Your food is way better _and_ it's fresh."

James absolutely does _not_ preen.

Lucy hums. "How will people find out, though?"

Kendall shrugs, but he's smirking. "Well, I have a feeling it'll get out."

Carlos leans closer, wiggling his eyebrows. "What oh what did our dear Kendall do?"

"Well, I assume you've all met Martha." Eyes widen in understanding. "I might have let it slip when I made her a cake and muffins of her own." Kendall winks at Carlos.

Lucy laughs and, after a second, everyone else joins in. "Oh, hell, James." Lucy says, grinning. "If Kendall comes to work for you, there won't be any reason to go to Griffin's at all. And I swear to god, if you don't hire him, I'll hire him as my personal baker, because this cake is amazing."

James looks at Kendall with wide eyes.

Kendall's smiling back, not looking half as concerned as James feels.

They stare long enough that someone clears their throat and then the topic changes.

The conversation and wine flows until close to two and then Kendall's yawning, leaning against James more than he usually does.

James is also having a hard time hiding his yawns and stopping himself from wrapping his arms around Kendall and it's doing absolutely nothing to dispel the innuendos his friends are throwing at them.

"Okay." He says, straightening Kendall up, and standing. "We're going to go. See you for breakfast tomorrow?"

After celebration tradition: breakfast at Brooke's.

Everyone nods their confirmation, hugging him goodbye. The girls hug Kendall and the guys shake his hand. Carlos winks at James when Kendall isn't paying attention, and he tries very hard not to blush.

Kendall tells Carlos to keep the cake tray until the cake is gone so it'll last longer and Carlos tells him not to worry, that he'll bring it to breakfast tomorrow.

They put on their coats, call out another goodbye, and then leave the party.

The cold air wakes them up a little. James hesitates for only a minute before wrapping his arm around Kendall's waist.

Kendall leans against him, smiling. James knows they've both had a bit to drink, but James has seen him drunk, and he thinks maybe this is just Kendall being Kendall.

"So…" James says, his voice crackling through their silence like the wind does between them. He tries to keep his tone light, as if telling a joke. "Think you'd want to come work for me?"

From the corner of his eyes, James can see Kendall frowning and chewing on his bottom lip. "That doesn't sound temporary."

James' heart skips a beat. "Do you want it to be?"

Kendall stops walking, hands wrapping around James' arm to stop him, too.

They're in the middle of the sidewalk, a few blocks away from Carlos' and a few away from James'. The night is dark and the streets are empty and James can feel something between them, waiting and ready to change irrevocably, one way or another.

Kendall releases James' arm and swallows hard. Then he does it again. "I...your friends thought we were dating."

James nods. He can't say anything.

"And you...you corrected them." Kendall looks up to meet his gaze and his shoulders square, jaw raising. "But you didn't have to."

All the air rushes out of James' lungs. "I didn't?"

"No." Kendall says. It comes out quietly, riding on an exhale. "At least, for me. You didn't have to if you did it for me."

"I wouldn't have." James can barely breathe. "If it was for me."

Kendall's eyes fall to James' lips before rising back to his eyes, getting stuck there. "And the job would be...what?"

James doesn't know the right answer. He wants in way he never has before, cares about his words and his posture and the outcome of this conversation so heavily that it bangs up against him.

"It would be…" He hesitates and then swallows. "Permanent. Or, at least, as permanent as you want it to be."

"Semi-permanent." Kendall suggests, closing the space between them. "With room for growth."

"Always room for growth." James agrees in a whisper.

They're a hair's breadth away from each other and James' heart hammers.

"If you were thinking about staying…." James says. "If you thought maybe you could stay here, for a little while...you should."

He waits. Kendall stares at him and James' whole body feels like its drenched in gasoline. Any second he could be set on fire and he feels dizzy from the fumes.

He waits to hear what Kendall says.

In the end, Kendall doesn't say anything.

He throws his arms around James' neck and kisses him instead, knocking the breath out of James and holding him tightly to him.

James might not know all of the kisses Kendall gives yet, might not know his every type and intention beneath his lips, but he's pretty sure he knows what this one means.

He's pretty sure a few blocks away, his friends are exchanging money. And he's got a brand new pastry chef.

He's pretty sure this kiss means things are changed, forever, for the better.

* * *

In the past six years, Kendall's lived in eleven different places. Eight cities and three small towns. Ten of them didn't matter. Ten places, ten jobs, ten different groups of people-he drove halfway across the country, baking pies, and not giving a single shit.

Until the eleventh place.

Until fucking _Kansas_.

Even after a year, some mornings Kendall wakes up in bed next to his boyfriend and is absolutely shocked he managed to get stuck in _Poplar, Kansas_ , of all goddamn places.

He can't believe that a guy who blushes at the drop of a hat and can't bake a pie for the life of him somehow managed to enthrall him so completely that he now has an actual, honest to God permanent mailing address.

It's rounding up to one year since Kendall officially moved into James' apartment and started working as the baker at Brooke's and even on the mornings when he's shocked, he's so damn happy it's disgusting.

He rolls over in bed, patting the left side for James.

When his hand hits soft and cold pillow, he frowns and cracks open his eyes.

He's confused for a half a second before he smells the bacon. Kendall grins and thanks his lucky stars that he snagged the one guy who would make him breakfast every damn day.

Kendall finds his pajama bottoms on the floor and shimmies into them, yawning into his fist as he pads across the apartment to throw himself into the kitchen chair.

"Morning, sunshine." James says as he sets a coffee cup in front of him and runs his hand through Kendall's hair, twirling a strand around his index finger. It wasn't until Kendall mentioned going to get a haircut a few months into their relationship that he realized how insanely attached his boyfriend was to his messy, long hair.

It's almost too messy and too long now, but if James is going to give him coffee and bacon and a head rub every morning because of it, he's happy to comply.

Kendall smiles up at James, eyes crinkling, and James watches him softly until Kendall's gurgling stomach interrupts their sweet moment.

James laughs and turns around to make a plate. "Someone's hungry."

Kendall stops himself from pouting, but the blush runs up his chest and neck anyway. "It's not my fault. You've gotten me used to it."

James rolls his eyes and sets two plates on the table, sitting in his own chair across from Kendall. "Sure, sure, it's my fault."

Kendall ignores the jibe in favor of shoving a piece of pancake in his mouth. He's fucking _obsessed_ with James' pancakes and if they weren't as good, he thinks their love story would be different.

He rolls his eyes at himself. He used to be a badass; now he's got the nickname Sunshine and calls his relationship a love story.

His grandma would be proud.

Kendall never really thought he'd have this: a home, a stable job, a boyfriend he loves. He expected drifter and driver to be his main descriptions until he maybe died in a car crash from falling asleep after too much sugar. Now he's here, in Poplar, and he's happy it's really kind of gross.

Something of which, their friends never seem to stop reminding them.

"Do we have to open?" Kendall can't remember who's on the schedule for Brooke's.

After Kendall jumped ship a year ago and joined James at his restaurant, Griffin's place all but crumbled. Word got around that the food was frozen and since everyone could get Kendall's baked goods somewhere else, the place didn't last more than a few months. Stephanie and Dak, with the help of Kendall's gentle nudging and bedroom bribing, managed to get James to redecorate and business picked up so astronomically, they actually managed to hire more workers so James didn't have to work seven days a week.

Kendall apparently had become a soft pushover because one crying conversation with Camille and he was practically begging James to hire the entirely of Griffin's crew.

They were great workers and once they actually got to know James, they stopped thinking he was such an ass. Besides, Camille's argument that he didn't care about people fell a little flat when Kendall walked in the room. They were, as Kendall was _constantly_ reminded, disgustingly in love.

Speaking of love...another unexpected development was the blooming relationship between Logan and Carlos.

Carlos had come into the restaurant one day to visit, and as soon they laid eyes on each other, it was like love at first sight. They were coming up on eight months together and were still going strong.

Logan-along with the rest of Griffin's former employees-had integrated so easily into their friend group. Honestly, they were all like one big family.

James' humming broke into Kendall's thought. "Nope." He grinned. "Logan and Dak are in the kitchen and Stephanie and Camille have the floor. Tyler's coming in the afternoon to help out, so I'll take over and close up but we don't have to be in all day."

"Hallelujah." Kendall praises. "I'll help you close."

"You don't have to."

"I'm aware." Kendall picks up the bacon on his plate and takes a bite. He groans around it. "This is so good."

"I marinated it." James says. "Better, right?"

"So much." Kendall agrees.

They finish breakfast and Kendall's about to hop in the shower when the phone starts ringing and he has to dig in the cushions while James digs in the bed to find the chirping cell phone.

"Why are you so bad with your phone?" Kendall groans, throwing one of the couch cushions behind his head. "I swear, this happens at least twice a week."

"Please stop judging me." James calls from the bedroom. "Aha! Found it."

"Thank fuck." Kendal throws himself on the cushion that's still on the couch and listens faintly to James' side of the conversation.

He's about to fall back asleep, stomach full and head lolling against the top of the couch, when he hears James' voice call out, loudly, "Are you fucking serious?"

Kendall's alert instantly. Outside of the bedroom, James doesn't really curse. Kendall stands up and goes to the bedroom door, leaning against the frame.

James is practically shaking. "Yeah, yeah, no, that's great. We'll….we'll be there at, say, two? Yeah, okay. Awesome. See you there."

James hangs up the phone.

"What was that- _oomph_!" His question gets punched out of him when James flies across the room, wrapping his arms around Kendall and kissing him hard.

Kendall has no idea what's going on, but then James swipes his tongue in that really nice way and Kendall doesn't care anymore. He groans into the kiss and winds his fingers into James' hair, tugging on the brunet strands and deepening their kiss. He tastes like coffee and bacon and Kendall can't believe that even after a year, he's still so intoxicated by James.

When they pull back, Kendall's all ready for round two, but James pulls back, grinning.

"Guess who was on the phone?"

He's practically bouncing. Kendall clicks his tongue and blows out from his mouth. "Um...we've won the lottery?"

"Nope!"

"Your long lost aunt?"

"Nope!"

"There's a bunch of dogs and we get to keep them all?"

" _Kendall_." James whines, but he's still grinning. "It was Mark!"

"Mark." Kendall repeats, trying to place the name.

"My business manager."

"Okay."

"We're doing, like, well." He emphasizes the well, as if Kendall needs to hear it in a special way.

Kendall smiles. "Yeah, Jay. I know."

"No, I mean, like, _well_." He stresses it the same way and he's so excited that Kendall really doesn't want to laugh at him.

"Tell me what that means." He says.

James grins. "Someone is interested in funding us."

"For what?"

"Expansion." James beams. "Like, turning Brooke's into a franchise!"

Kendall's eyes widen. "Babe! That's fucking incredible!"

"I know! And your desserts. They want to sell them, like, outside of the restaurant."

Kendall freezes. "What?"

"We've got a business meeting at two." James kisses him once, softly. "Things are happening."

"Yeah." He breathes out. "Looks like they are."

James grins and wraps his arms around Kendall's torso, hugging him. Kendall hugs him back, burying his face in the crook of his neck.

"Think you're ready for something new?"

Kendall pulls back to look at him, grinning. "Always."

James' smile is so soft and so nice that Kendall can't think about anything else. He tightens his grip around him.

"I love you." James says.

Kendall lets out a breath, a shaky happiness that happens every time he hears those words. "I love you, too."

"No, like, I _really_ love you." James insists.

Kendall laughs. "I know. I _really_ love you, too."

James pulls out of Kendall's grasp and paces across the room, body still jittery and his smile so wide it looks like it hurts. Kendall sits on the edge of the bed, just watching him.

After a few minutes, he hears him curse under his breath. Like he did all those months ago outside of the party before they got together, James comes up to him. "Fuck it." He says and kisses him softly.

He pulls away too quickly for Kendall's liking and goes to the dresser, digging in his clothes. Kendall has no idea what time it is, but they might need to hurry to make it to the meeting. Maybe he and James could shower together and, yeah, it might take a little longer, but it'll conserve water and that's good and they could celebrate a little before-

James spins around, crosses the room in two steps before coming back and falling to his knees.

"Kendall." He said, lips quivering.

Kendall's breath catches in his throat. He can't look away from the ring box in James' hand.

"Kendall, meeting you was the best thing that has ever happened to me. I was lost then. I was confused and alone and I didn't care about anything except surviving. Nothing mattered the way I wanted it to and I thought I was broken." He chokes out, taking a shaky breath before continuing.

"Then you came. And, God, from the moment I saw you, all I could do was _feel_. All I could do was want and feel and it was the loveliest thing I've ever felt. It still is. You're the brightest thing I've ever seen and I'm lucky every day for being near you. You couldn't matter more to me. You mean everything and I would turn down this deal, I'd burn down the restaurant, I'd do anything to make you happy.

I love you, Kendall. I love you and I want to spend every night with you in bed and every morning making breakfast for you. I want you to be in my life every day for the rest of my life. I know you like your freedom and I know staying was never your plan, but Kendall, know I'd go anywhere with you. I'd live in the junker and never stay in one place again if that's what you wanted. All I want and all I need is you.

You've given me so much and it's selfish of me to ask for more. But I'm going to ask anyway. Kendall Knight, will you marry me?"

The world narrows.

Kendall spent his whole life getting away. At least, he thought he did. He thought he was running from places and thought he was aimless. But here, with James on his knees and an engagement ring in his hand, Kendall realizes how terribly _,_ awfully _stupid_ he's been.

He wasn't running from something. He was running towards home. And it wasn't aimless, but a search. Kendall found something in Poplar, with James, that doesn't exist outside of them.

They've only been together a year, but it feels like they've been together longer than that. They're obsessive and they're truly, _truly_ going to get fat if they keep feeding each other the way they do.

Somehow, Kendall can't imagine a single thing better than that. He can't imagine a single place better than sitting inside Brooke's or a single feeling even close to the feeling of James' arms around him.

He's been crafting sweets his whole life but he'll never taste anything half as good as his name on James' breath and he'll never love anyone the way he loves James.

"I told you once," Kendall begins, and they both pretend like his breath isn't shaking, "that to bake something, you had to be purposeful. You had to understand why you were making it, not what you want in the end. And that's us, isn't it?"

James nods in response, his face frozen in a terrified expression. Kendall raises his shaking hand to James' face and strokes his thumb across his cheek.

"Every day with you is purposeful. Every day, I understand why I'm here and I learn more about why I love you. Every day with you is worth everything. Our ending will be so, so beautiful because every day, every decision we make, is. I love you. So James Diamond, please let me marry you. Yes."

* * *

 **Done! I couldn't help but have a sappy ending and for Kames to get the happy ending they deserve!**

 **I'd love to hear you thoughts on the chapter, and the story in general! I'd also love to hear if you happened to have any favorite parts/moments!**

 **Again, I hope you all enjoyed! I also want to thank you all again for your support! It means so much to me, and you all just motivate me to keep going. :) Hope yo see you all again soon!**

 **-Epically Obsessed**


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